Romeo + Juliet Page #2

Romeo:

I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, But to rejoice in splendor of mine own.

Lady Capulet:

JULIET!!! Juliet! Juliet! Juliet! Nurse. Nurse, where's my daughter? call her forth to me.

Nurse:

I bade her come. God forbid! Juliet! Juliet! Juliet! Juliet!

Juliet:

Madam, I am here. What is your will?

Lady Capulet:

Nurse, give us leave awhile, We must talk in secret. Nurse, come back again; I have remember'd me, thou's hear our counsel. Nurse, Thou know'st my daughter's of a pretty age.

Nurse:

Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nursed.

Lady Capulet:

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.

Nurse:

A man, young lady! Lady, such a man As all the world--why, he's a man of wax.

Lady Capulet:

Verona's summer hath not such a flower.

Nurse:

Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower.

Lady Capulet:

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.

Nurse:

Nay, bigger; women grow by men.

Lady Capulet:

Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love?

Juliet:

I'll look to like, if looking liking move: But no more deep will I endart mine eye Than your consent to give strength to make it fly.

Servant:

Madam, the guests are come.

Lady Capulet:

Go! We follow thee. Juliet, Blah!

Nurse:

[whisper to JULIET] Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days.

Sampson:

Capulet ply, and I a beggar.

Mercutio:

Young hearts run free. Never be caught up, caught up like Rosaline and thee. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.

Romeo:

Not I, Not I believe me: you have dancing shoes With nimble soles: I have a soul of lead

Mercutio:

You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings, And soar with them above a common bound.

Romeo:

Under love's heavy burden do I sink.

Mercutio:

Too great oppression for a tender thing.

Romeo:

Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.

Mercutio:

If love be rough with you, be rough with love; Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.

Benvolio:

Every man betake him to his legs.

Romeo:

But 'tis no wit to go.

Mercutio:

Why, may one ask?

Romeo:

I dream'd a dream tonight.

Mercutio:

And so did I.

Romeo:

Well, what was yours?

Mercutio:

That dreamers often lie.

Romeo:

In bed asleep, while they do dream things true.

Mercutio:

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 fore-finger 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 wagoner 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!

Romeo:

Peace, good Mercutio, peace! Thou talk'st of nothing.

Mercutio:

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 wooes even now the frozen bosom of the north, and, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, turning his face to the dew-dropping south.

Benvolio:

This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves; Supper is done, and we shall come too late.

Romeo:

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!

Mercutio:

On, lusty gentlemen.

Romeo:

Your drugs are quick.

Capulet:

Ahhh! I have seen the day that I could tell A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear, Such as would please.

Nurse:

Madam, your mother calls.

Paris:

Will you now deny to dance?

Lady Capulet:

A man young lady, such a man.

Tybalt:

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.

Capulet:

Why, how now, kinsman! wherefore storm you so?

Tybalt:

Uncle, this is that villain Romeo, a Montague, our foe.

Capulet:

Young Romeo is it?

Tybalt:

'Tis he.

Capulet:

Content thee, gentle cuz, content thee. Let him alone; I would not for the wealth of all the town Here in my house do him disparagement: Therefore be patient, take no note of him.

Tybalt:

I'll not endure him.

Capulet:

He shall be endured. Go to! What, goodman boy! Go to!

Tybalt:

Uncle, 'tis a shame.

Capulet:

Make a mutiny among my guests?!

Romeo:

Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night. 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.

Juliet:

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.

Romeo:

Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?

Juliet:

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

Romeo:

Well, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.

Juliet:

Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.

Romeo:

Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take.

Lady Capulet:

Yoo-Hoo!

Romeo:

Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.

Juliet:

Then have my lips the sin that they have took.

Romeo:

Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.

Juliet:

You kiss by the book.

Lady Capulet:

Juliet! Juliet! Move! Juliet! JULIET!

Nurse:

Madam, your mother craves a word with you. Come lets away.

Romeo:

Is she a Capulet?

Nurse:

His name is Romeo, and he's a Montague; The only son of your great enemy.

Mercutio:

Away, begone; the sport is at the best.

Romeo:

Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest.

Juliet:

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 loath-ed enemy.

Tybalt:

I will withdraw:
but this intrusion shall now seeming sweet convert to bitterous gall.

Benvolio:

Romeo! Romeo!

Mercutio:

Romeo! humors! madman! passion! lover! I 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!

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