Romeo & Juliet Page #4

This is what it sounds like

This is what it sounds like

This is what it sounds like

Where the devil should this Romeo be?

Came he not home tonight?

Not to his father's; I spoke with his man.

Why, that same pale hard-hearted

wench, that Rosaline,

torments him so, that he will sure run mad.

Tybalt hath sent a letter to his father's house.

- A challenge, on my life!

- Romeo will answer it?

Any man that can write may answer a letter.

Nay, he will answer the letter's master,

how he dares being dared.

Well, alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead!

Stabbed with a white wench's black eye!

Run through the ear with a love-song!

The very pin of his heart cleft

with the blind bow-boy's butt-shaft!

And is he a man to encounter Tybalt?

- Why, what is Tybalt?

- More than Prince of Cats.

He is the courageous captain of compliments!

He fights as you sing pricksong.

Keeps time, distance, and proportion.

He rests his minim rests.

One, two, and a third...

in your bosom.

The very butcher of a silk button.

A duelist.

A duelist! A gentleman

of the very first house,

of the first and second cause.

The immortal passado!

The punto reverso!

The, um... hai!

The what?

Here comes Romeo.

Romeo!

Ho-ho, taffeta punk!

Signor Romeo, bonjour!

There's a French salutation

to your French slop.

You gave us the counterfeit fairly last night.

Good morrow to you both.

What counterfeit did I give you?

The slip, sir, the slip.

Can you not conceive?

Pardon, good Mercutio.

My business was great

and in such a case as mine

a man may strain courtesy.

That's as much as to say,

such a case as yours

constrains a man to bow in the hams!

- Meaning to curtsy?

- Thou hast most kindly hit it.

- A most courteous exposition.

- Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy.

- Pink for flower?

- Right.

Why, then is my pump well flowered!

O sure wit!

Now art thou sociable. Now art thou Romeo!

Now art thou what thou art,

by art as well as by nature!

Here's goodly gear!

God ye good e'en, fair gentlewoman.

I desire some confidence with you.

A bawd!

A bawd, a bawd, a bawd!

So ho! So ho!

So ho! So ho!

Romeo!

Romeo!

Romeo!

Will you come to your father's?

We'll to dinner thither.

I will follow you.

Farewell, ancient lady! Farewell!

If ye should lead her

in a fool's paradise, as they say,

it were a very gross kind

of behavior, as they say.

For the lady is young

and, therefore, if you should

deal double with her,

truly it were an ill thing,

and very weak dealing.

Bid her to come to confession

this afternoon

and there she shall,

at Friar Laurence's cell, be shrived...

and married.

Love me, love me

Say that you love me

Fool me, fool me

Go on and fool me

Love me, love me

Pretend that you love me

O honey nurse! What news?

- Nurse!

- I am aweary! Give me leave awhile!

Fie, how my bones ache!

What ajaunce have I!

Would thou hadst my bones

and I thy news.

Come, I pray thee, speak!

Jesu, what haste! Can you not stay awhile?

Can you not see that I am out of breath?

How art thou out of breath

when thou hast breath

to say to me that thou art out of breath?

Is the news good or bad? Answer to that.

Well, you have made a simple choice.

You know not how to choose a man.

Romeo? No, not he.

Though his face be better than any man's,

yet his leg excels all men's,

and for a hand and a foot and a body...

But all this I did know before.

What says he of our marriage?

What of that?

Lord, how my head aches!

What a head have I!

And my back!

T'other side!

Oh, my back!

In faith, I am sorry that thou art not well.

Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse!

Tell me, what says my love?

Thy love says, like an honest gentleman,

and a courteous, and a kind,

and a handsome,

and, I warrant, a virtuous...

- Where is your mother?

- "Where is your mother?"

How oddly thou repliest!

Your love says, like an honest gentleman,

"Where is your mother?"

God's Lady dear! Are you so hot?

Henceforth, do your messages yourself!

O here's such a coil!

Come, what says Romeo?

Have you got leave

to go to confession today?

I have.

Then hie you hence to Father Laurence' cell.

There stays a husband to make you a wife!

Everybody's free to feel good

To feel good

Brother and sister

Together we'll make it through

Oh-oh, yeah

Someday a spirit will take you

and guide you there

I know you've been hurting

But I've been waiting to be there for you

And I'll be there just helping you out

Whenever I can

Everybody's free

Everybody's free

Oh, yeah

These violent delights

have violent ends.

And in their triumph die

like fire and powder

which, as they kiss, consume.

The sweetest honey is loathsome

in his own deliciousness.

Therefore love moderately.

Romeo shall thank thee, daughter,

for us both.

Oh, to feel good

I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire!

The day is hot, the Capels are abroad,

and if we meet we shall not 'scape a brawl,

for now, these hot days,

is the mad blood stirring.

We're the Caps!

See? Thou art like one of these fellows...

that, when he enters

the confines of a tavern,

claps me his Sword upon the table

and says, "God send me no need of thee".

And, by the operation of the second cup,

draws him on the drawer,

when indeed there is no need.

Yeah!

Am I like such a fellow?

Thou art as hot ajack in thy mood

as any in Verona.

By my head, here come the Capulets.

By my heel... I care not.

Follow me close.

Gentlemen, good day.

A word with one of you?

And but one word with one of us?

Couple it with something.

Make it a word and a...

a blow!

You shall find me apt enough to that, sir,

and you will give me occasion.

Could you not take some occasion

without giving?

Mercutio!

Thou, uh... consortest with Romeo?

Consort!

What, dost thou make us minstrels?

And thou make minstrels of us,

look to hear nothing but discords!

Here's my fiddlestick!

Here's that shall make you dance!

Zounds! Consort!

Either withdraw unto some private place,

or reason coldly of your grievances,

or else depart. Here all eyes gaze on us!

Men's eyes were made to look,

and let them gaze.

I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.

Peace be with you, sir. Here comes my man.

Mercutio!

Romeo!

The love I bear thee can afford

no better term than this.

Thou art a villain!

Tybalt,

the reason that I have to love thee...

doth much excuse

the appertaining rage to such a greeting.

Villain am I none.

Therefore, farewell.

I see thou knowest me not.

Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries

that thou hast done me!

Turn and draw!

Turn and draw!

Turn and draw.

- Turn and draw!

- I do protest I never injured thee,

but love thee better than thou canst devise

till thou shalt know the reason of my love.

And so, good Capulet,

whose name I tender

as dearly as mine own...

be satisfied.

Be satisfied.

O calm, dishonorable, vile submission!

Thou art my soul's hate!

Tybalt!

You rat-catcher!

Will you walk?

What wouldst thou have with me?

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