Romeo & Juliet Page #2

Thou's hear our counsel.

Nurse, thou knowest

my daughter's of a pretty age.

Thou wast the prettiest babe

that e'er I nursed.

By my count, I was your mother

much upon these years.

You are now a maid.

Thus then in brief!

The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.

A man, young lady!

Lady, such a man as all the world.

Why, he's a man of wax!

Verona's summer hath not such a flower...

Nay, he's a flower. In faith, a very flower...

Nurse!

This night you shall behold him at our feast.

Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face

and find delight writ there

with beauty's pen.

This... precious book of love,

this unbound lover,

to beautify him, only lacks a cover.

So shall you share all that he doth possess,

by having him making yourself no less.

Nay, bigger. Women grow by men.

Speak briefly, can you like of Paris's love?

I'll look to like, if looking liking move.

But no more deep will I endart mine eye

than your consent gives strength

to make it fly.

Madam, the guests are come.

Go!

We follow thee.

Juliet!

Go, girl. Seek happy nights to happy days.

You taffeta punk!

Die a beggar!

Sharing this one and only life

Ending up just another

lost and lonely wife

You count up the years

And they will be filled with tears

Young hearts

Run free

Never be hung up

Like Rosaline and thee

Nay, gentle Romeo,

we must have you dance.

Not I. Not I, believe me.

You have dancing shoes with

nimble soles. I have a soul of lead.

You are a lover.

Borrow Cupid's wings and soar

with them above a common bound.

Under love's heavy burden do I sink.

Too great oppression for a tender thing.

Is love a tender thing? It is too rough,

too rude, too boisterous,

and it pricks like thorn.

If love be rough with you, be rough with love.

Prick love for pricking,

and you beat love down.

Every man, betake him to his legs!

Come, we burn daylight, ho!

- But 'tis no wit to go!

- Why, may one ask?

- I dreamt a dream tonight.

- And so did I.

- And what was yours?

- That dreamers often lie.

In bed asleep,

while they do dream things true.

O! Then I see

Queen Mab hath been with you.

She is the fairies' midwife,

and she comes in shape

no bigger than an agate-stone

on the forefinger of an alderman,

drawn with a team of little atomies

over men's noses as they lie asleep.

Her chariot is an empty hazelnut,

her waggoner a small grey-coated gnat.

And in this state she gallops

night by night through lovers' brains,

and then they dream of...

love;

o'er lawyers' fingers,

who straight dream on fees.

Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,

and then dreams he

of cutting foreign throats;

and, being thus frighted, swears

a prayer or two, and sleeps again.

This is the hag,

when maids lie on their backs,

that presses them

and learns them first to bear,

making them women of good carriage!

This is she!

This is she!

Peace, good Mercutio, peace!

Thou talk'st of nothing.

True.

I talk of dreams,

which are the children of an idle brain,

begot of nothing but vain fantasy;

which is as thin of substance as the air

and more inconstant than the wind,

who woos even now

the frozen bosom of the north,

and, being angered,

puffs away from thence,

turning aside to the dew-dropping south.

This wind you talk of

blows us from ourselves!

Supper is done, and we shall come too late!

I fear, too early.

For my mind misgives some... consequence,

yet hanging in the stars,

shall bitterly begin his fearful date

with this night's revels,

and expire the term...

of a despised life closed within my breast...

by some vile forfeit of untimely death.

But he that hath the steerage of my course

direct my sail!

On, lusty gentlemen!

Thy drugs are quick.

I have seen the day that I could tell

a whispering tale in a fair lady's ear

such as would please.

Amore! Amore!

Amore...

Pride can stand a thousand trials

The strong will never fall

But watching stars without you

My soul cried

Heaving heart

Is full of pain

Oh, oh

The aching

Cos I'm kissing you

Oh

I'm kissing you

Madam, your mother calls!

Touch me deep

Pure and true

Will you now deny to dance?

A man, young lady. Such a man!

What!

Dares that slave come hither

to fleer and scorn at our solemnity?

Now, by the stock and honor of my kin,

to strike him dead I hold it not a sin!

Why, how now, kinsman!

Wherefore storm you so?

Uncle, this is that villain Romeo.

A Montague, our foe.

- Romeo is it?

- 'Tis he.

Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone.

I would not for the wealth of all this town

here in my house do him disparagement.

Therefore be patient, take no note of him.

Uncle, I'll not endure him.

He shall be endured.

Go to!

What, goodman boy? I say he shall!

Go to!

Uncle, 'tis a shame.

Make a mutiny among my guests?

Did my heart love till now?

Forswear it, sight.

For I never saw true beauty till this night.

Where are you now?

Where are you now?

Cos I'm kissing you

I'm kissing you now

If I profane with my unworthiest hand

this holy shrine,

the gentle sin is this.

My lips, two blushing pilgrims,

ready stand

to smooth that rough touch

with a tender kiss.

Good pilgrim,

you do wrong your hand too much,

which mannerly devotion shows in this.

For saints have hands

that pilgrims' hands do touch,

and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.

Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?

Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.

Well, then, dear saint,

let lips do what hands do.

They pray, grant thou,

lest faith turn to despair.

Saints do not move,

though grant for prayers' sake.

Then move not,

while my prayer's effect I take.

Dave!

Thus from my lips,

by thine, my sin is purged.

Then have my lips the sin

that they have took?

Sin from my lips?

O trespass sweetly urged!

Give me my sin again.

You kiss by the book.

Juliet! Juliet! Oh!

Juliet?

Juliet!

Madam, your mother craves a word with you.

Come, let's away!

Is she a Capulet?

His name is Romeo, and he's a Montague,

the only son of your great enemy.

Away, be gone. The sport is at its best.

Ay, so I fear. The more is my unrest.

I am a pretty piece of flesh!

I am a pretty piece of flesh!

I am a pretty piece of flesh! I am!

My only love sprung from my only hate!

Too early seen unknown, and known too late!

Prodigious birth of love it is to me,

that I must love a loathed enemy.

I will withdraw.

But this intrusion shall,

now seeming sweet,

convert to bitterest gall.

A pretty piece of flesh! I am!

A pretty piece of...

Romeo!

- Romeo!

- Romeo!

Romeo!

Humors! Madman!

Passion! Lover!

I will conjure thee

by Rosaline's bright eyes,

by her high forehead

and her scarlet lip,

by her fine foot, straight leg,

and quivering thigh!

O Romeo, that she were an open-ass

and thou a poperin pear!

He jests at scars that never felt the wound.

Romeo!

Good night!

I'll to my truckle-bed.

This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep.

But soft!

What light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east,

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