University of Virginia Library

SCENE, Juliet's Chamber.
Romeo and Juliet discovered.
Jul.
Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near Day,
It was the Nightingale, and not the Lark,
That pierc'd the fearful Hollow of thine Ear:
Nightly she sings on yond' Pomgranate Tree:
Believe me, Love, it was the Nightingale.

Rom.
It was the Lark, the Herald of the Morn,
No Nightingale; look Love, what envious Streaks
Do lace the severing Clouds in yonder East:
Night's Candles are burnt out, and jocund Day
Stands tiptoe, on the misty Mountain Tops.
I must begone, and live; or stay, and die.

Jul.
Yon Light is not Day-light; I know it well
It is some Meteor that the Sun exhales
To be to thee this Night a Torch-Bearer,
And light thee on thy Way to Mantua.
Then stay a while; thou shalt not go so soon.

Rom.
Let me then stay, let me be ta'en and die;
If thou wilt have it so, I am content:
I'll say yon Gray is not the Morning's Eye,
'Tis but the pale Reflex of Cynthia's Brow;
I'll say it is the Nightingale that beats
The vaulty Heaven's, so high above our Heads,
And not the Lark, the Messenger of Morn:
Come Death and welcome. Juliet wills it so.
What says my Love? Let's talk; it is not Day.

Jul.
It is the Lark, that sings so out of Tune,
Straining harsh Discords, and unpleasing Sharps:
Some say, the Lark makes sweet Division;
This doth not so, for she divideth us.
Some say the Lark and loathed Toad change Eyes;
O! now I would they had chang'd Voices too!
O! now begone, more light and light it grows.

Nurse within.
Nurse.
Madam.

Jul.
Nurse.

Nurse.
Your Lady Mother's coming to your Chamber;
The Day is broke; be wary, look about.

Jul.
Then, thou must go: Love! Lord! ah! Husband! Friend!
I must hear from thee every Day in the Hour,
For in a Minute there are many Days:
O, by this 'count, I shall be much in Years,
Ere I again behold my Romeo.

Rom.
The Saints that heard our Vows, and know our Loves,
Seeing my Faith, and thy unspotted Truth,
Will sure take care, and let no Wrongs annoy thee;
Upon my Knees I'll ask 'em every Day,
How my kind Juliet does;—and every Night,
In the severe Distresses of my Fate,
As I perhaps shall wander thro' the Desert,
And want a Place to rest my weary Head on,
I'll count the Stars, and bless 'em as they shine,
And court 'em all, for my dear Juliet's Safety.

Jul.
Oh! Banishment! eternal Banishment!
Ne'er to return! must we ne'er meet again?
My Heart will break; I cannot bear that Thought
And live, cou'd I but see to the End of Woe,
There were some Comfort;—but eternal Torment,
Is ever insupportable to Thought:
It cannot be that we shall part for ever.

Rom.
No, for my Banishment may be recall'd;
Then shall I boldly claim fair Juliet mine:
Whilst happiest Men shall envy at our Blessings,
And Poets write the Wonders of our Loves.

Jul.
Oh! I cou'd find out Things to talk to thee for ever.

Rom.
Weep not, the Time
We had to stay together has been employ'd
In richest Love.

Jul.
We ought to summon all
The Spirit of soft Passion up, to chear,
Our Hearts, thus lab'ring with the Pangs of parting.
Oh! my poor Romeo!

Rom.
Ah! my kindest Juliet!

Jul.
But do'st thou think we e'er shall meet again?

Rom.
I doubt it not; and all these Woes shall serve
For sweet Discourses in our Time to come.

Jul.
Alas! I have an ill-divining Soul:
Methinks I see thee, now thou art from my Arms,
Like a stark Ghost, with Horror in thy Visage:
Either my Eye-sight fails, or thou look'st pale.

Rom.
And trust me, Love, in my Eye so dost thou:
Dry sorrow drinks our Blood:—Farewell, Farewell.

Jul.
All good Angels guard thee.
[Ex. Romeo.
Oh Fortune, Fortune! all Men call thee fickle;
If thou art fickle, what hast thou to do
With him that is renowned for his Faith?
Yet be fickle Fortune: For then I hope
Thou wilt not keep him long—But send him back.

Enter Lady Capulet.
L. Cap.
Ho, Daughter, are you up?

Jul.
Who is't that calls! Is it my Lady Mother?
What unaccustom'd Cause procures her hither?

[Aside.
L. Cap.
Why, how now Juliet?

Jul.
Madam, I am not well.

L. Cap.
Evermore weeping for your Cousin's Death?
What wilt thou wash him from his Grave with Tears?

Jul.
Yet let me weep for such a feeling Loss.

L. Cap.
Well Girl, thou weep'st not so much for his Death,
As that the Villain lives, which slaughter'd him.

Jul.
What Villain, Madam.

L. Cap.
That same Villain, Romeo.

Jul.
Villain and he are many Miles asunder.

L. Cap.
Content thee, Girl: If I could find a Man
I wou'd soon send to Mantua, where he is,
And give him such an unaccustom'd Dram,
That he should soon keep Tibalt Company.

Jul.
Find you the Means, and I'll soon find such a Man;
For while he lives, my Heart shall ne'er be light
Till I behold him—dead—is my poor Heart,
Thus for a Kinsman vex'd?

L. Cap.
Well, let that pass.
I come to bring thee joyful Tidings, Girl.

Jul.
And Joy comes well in such a needful Time.
What are they, I beseech your Ladyship?

L. Cap.
Well, well; thou hast a careful Father, Child,
One, who to put thee from thy Heaviness,
Hath sorted out a sudden Day of Joy,
That thou expect'st not; nor I look'd not for.

Jul.
Madam, in happy Time, what Day is this?

L. Cap.
Marry, my Child, early next Thursday Morn,
Paris the gallant, young and noble Count,
Shall happily make thee a joyful Bride.

Jul.
I wonder at this Haste, that I must wed
Ere he that must be Husband comes to woo.
I pray you tell my Lord and Father, Madam,
I will not marry yet; and when I do
It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate,
Rather than Paris:—These are News indeed.

L. Cap.
Here comes your Father, tell him so yourself,
And see how he will take it at your Hands.

Enter Capulet, and Nurse.
Cap.
How now? What, still in Tears? Evermore show'ring!
Now, Wife, have you deliver'd our Decree?

L. Cap.
Ay, Sir; but she will none, she gives you Thanks:
I wou'd the Fool were married to her Grave.

Cap.
Soft, take me with you, take me with you, Wife:
How! will she none? Doth she not give us Thanks?
Is she not proud? Doth she not count her blest,
Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought
So worthy a Gentleman to be her Bridegroom?

Jul.
Not proud, you have; but thankful that you have.
Proud can I never be of what I hate:
But thankful even for Hate, that is meant Love.

Cap.
How now, Chop-Logick! Why, what Riddling's this!
Proud! and I thank you! and I thank you not!
Thank me no Thankings, nor proud me no Prouds;
But settle your fine Joints 'gainst Thursday next,
To go with Paris, to St. Peter's Church:
Or I will drag thee on a Hurdle thither.

Jul.
Good Father, I beseech you on my Knees,
Hear me with Patience but to speak a Word.

Cap.
Hang thee, young Baggage disobedient Wretch.
I tell thee what, get thee to Church on Thursday
Or never after look me in the Face.
Speak not, reply not, do not answer me.
My Fingers itch Wife, we scarce thought us blest.
That Heaven hath sent us but this only Child.
But now I see this one is one too much,
And that we have a Curse in having her:
Out on her Hilding

Nurse.
Now good Heaven bless her
You are to blame my Lord, to rate her so.

Cap.
And why, my Lady Wisdom, hold your Tongue.
Good Prudence, smatter with your Gossips go.

Nurse.
I speak no Treason: Then why mayn't one speak

Cap.
Peace you mumbling Fool.
Utter your Gravity o'er a Gossip's Bowl.
For here we need it not

L. Cap.
You are too hot

Cap.
It makes me mad: Day, Night, late, early,
At home, abroad; alone, in Company,
Waking or Sleeping, still my Care hath been
To have her match'd: And having now provided
A Gentleman of noble Parentage,
Of fair Demeans, youthful, and nobly allied;
Stuff'd as they say with honourable Parts;
Proportion'd as one's Thought would wish a Man:
And then to have a wretched pulling Fool,
A whining Mammet, in her Fortune's Tender,
To answer I'll not wed; I cannot love;
I am too young: I pray you pardon me,
Look to't, think on't, I do not use to jest:
If you be mine, I'll give you to my Friend;
If you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in the Streets;
For by my Soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee,
Nor what is mine shall ever do thee good:
Trust to't, bethink you, I'll not be forsworn.

[Exit.
Jul.
Is there no pity sitting in the Clouds,
That sees into the Bottom of my Grief.
O sweet my Mother, cast me not away,
Delay this Marriage for a Month, a Week,
Or if you do not, make the bridal Bed
In that dim Monument, where Tibalt lies.

L. Cap.
Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a Word;
Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee

[Exit.
Jul.
O Nurse, how shall this be prevented?

Nurse.
Faith, here it is,
Romeo is banish'd: All the World to nothing
That he dares not come back to challenge you;
Or if he do, it needs must be by Stealth.
Then, since the Case so stands, as now it doth,
I think it best you married with the Count.
Oh! he's a lovely Gentleman!
Romeo's a Dish-clout to him.

Jul.
Speak'st thou from thy Heart?

Nurse.
And from my Soul too;
Or else beshrew 'em both!

Jul.
Go in, and tell my Lady I am gone,
Having displeas'd my Father, to Friar Laurence Cell,
To make Confession, and to be absolv'd.

Nurse.
Marry I will, and this is wisely done.—

[Exit.
Jul.
O most wicked Fiend!
Thus to dispraise my Lord, with that same Tongue,
Which she hath prais'd him with, above Compare,
So many thousand Times! Go, Counsellor;
Thou and my Bosom, henceforth shall be 'twain:
How hateful is this Place in Romeo's Absence?
Remov'd from what we love, a Court's a Prison;
But with our Loves the least Spot's a World:
Then, finding Romeo, I enjoy the World.
Oh! Love, how mighty is thy Power! My Heart
Grows resolute, inspir'd by thee: 'Tis Love
Makes wise Men weak, and silly Women cunning;
Cowards couragious, and the Hero tremble:
Love can with sudden, and resistless, Power,
Abash the Learned; or make an Orator,
Of unskill'd Youth;—Humanise the Brute;
Exalt the Slave, enslave the Conqueror:
Love can make Juliet shun her Father's House,
Who ere she knew Love's Influence, thence to have fled,
Had broke her Heart; no, I'll not tarry here:
I'll to the Friar, and consult with him.
If for my Griefs he finds no Remedy,
Let the worst come, I still have Power to die.

[Exit.