Romeo + Juliet Page #4

NURSE:

[Within]

Juliet!

JULIET:

I uh, by and by I come--But if thou mean'st not well,

I do beseech thee--

NURSE:

[Within]

Juliet!

JULIET:

By and by, I come: -- To cease thy strief, and leave

me to my grief:
To-morrow will I send.

ROMEO:

So thrive my soul--

JULIET:

A thousand times good night! Exit, above

ROMEO:

A thousand times the worse, to want thy light. Love

goes toward love, as schoolboys from their books, But

love from love, toward school with heavy looks.

JULIET:

Romeo! At what o'clock to-morrow Shall I send to

thee?

ROMEO:

By the hour of nine.

JULIET:

I will not fail:
'tis twenty year till then.

JULIET:

Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow,

that I shall say good night till it be morrow.

NURSE:

Juliet!

FATHER LAWRENCE:

O, mighty is the powerful grace that lies in plants,

herbs, stones, and their true qualities: for nought

so vile that the earth doth live but to the earth

some special good doth give, nor aught so good, but

strain'd from that fair use revolts from true birth,

stumbling on abuse: virtue itself turns vice, being

misaplied; and vice sometimes by action dignified.

Within the infant rind of this weak flower poison is

resident and medicine power: for this, being smelt,

with that part cheers each part; being tasted, slays

all senses with the heart. Two such empossed kings

encamp them still in man as well as herbs, grace and

rude will; and where the worser is predominant, full

soon the canker death eats up that plant.

ROMEO:

Good marrow, father!

FATHER LAWRENCE:

Benedicite! What early tounge so sweet saludeth me?

ALTAR BOYS:

Good marrow, Romeo.

ROMEO:

Good marrow.

FATHER LAWRENCE:

Young son, it argues a distemper'd head so soon to

bid good marrow to thy bed: or if not so so, then

here I hit it right, our Romeo hath not seen his bed

tonight.

ROMEO:

The last is true; the sweeter rest was mine.

FATHER LAWRENCE:

God pardon sin, was thou with Rosaline!?

ROMEO:

Rosaline? My ghostly father no; I have forgot that

name, and that name's woe.

FATHER LAWRENCE:

That's my good son: but where hast thou been

ROMEO:

I have been feasting with mine enemy, where on a

sudden one hath wounded me, that's by me wounded;

both our remeidies within thy help and holy physic

lies.

FATHER LAWRENCE:

Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift; riddling

confession finds but riddling shrift.

ROMEO:

Then plainly know my hearts dear love is set, on the

fair daughter of rich Capulet. We met, we wooed, we

made exchange of vow. I'll tell thee as we pass; but

this I pray, that thou consent to marry us today.

FATHER LAWRENCE:

Holy Saint Francis, what a change is here! Is

Rosaline that thou didst love so dear so soon

forsaken? Young men's love then lies not truly in

their hearts but in their eyes.

ROMEO:

Thou chid'st me oft for loving Rosaline.

FATHER LAWRENCE:

For doting; not for loving, pupil mine.

ROMEO:

I pray thee, chde me not; whom I love now doth grace

for grace and love for love allow; the other did not

so.

FATHER LAWRENCE:

O, she new well. Thy love read by rote and could not

spell. Come, young waverer, come, go with me, In one

respect I'll thy assistant be; for this alliance may

so happy prove, to turn you household rachor to pure

love.

ROMEO:

O, let us hence; I stand on sudden haste.

FATHER LAWRENCE:

Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast.

MERCUTIO:

Where the devil should this Romeo be? Came he not

home to-night?

BENVOLIO:

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

MERCUTIO:

Why that pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline.

Torments him so, that he will sure run mad.

BENVOLIO:

Tybalt, the kinsman of old Capulet, Hath sent a

letter to his father's house.

MERCUTIO:

A challenge, on my life.

BENVOLIO:

Romeo will answer it?

MERCUTIO:

Any man that can write may answer a letter.

BENVOLIO:

Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he

dares, being dared.

MERCUTIO:

But alas poor Romeo! he is already dead; stabbed with

a white wench's black eye; shot 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?

BENVOLIO:

Why, what is Tybalt?

MERCUTIO:

More than prince of cats. He is the courageous

captain of compliments. He fights as you sing prick-

song, keeps time, distance, and proportion; he rests

his minim rest, one, two, and the third in your

bosom:
the very butcher of a silk button, a duellist,

a duellist; a gentleman of the very first house, of

the first and second cause: the immortal passado!

punto reverso! the hai!

BENVOLIO:

The what?

BENVOLIO:

Here comes Romeo. Romeo!

ROMEO:

Ho Ho, Capital Punks!

MERCUTIO:

Signior Romeo, bon jour! there's a French salutation

to your French slop. You gave us the counterfeit

fairly last night.

ROMEO:

Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give

you?

MERCUTIO:

The slip, son, the slip; can you not conceive?

ROMEO:

Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was great; and in

such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy.

MERCUTIO:

That's as much as to say, such a case as yours

constrains a man to bow in the hams.

ROMEO:

Meaning, to court'sy.

MERCUTIO:

Thou hast most kindly hit it.

ROMEO:

A most courteous exposition.

MERCUTIO:

Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy.

ROMEO:

Pink for flower.

MERCUTIO:

Right.

ROMEO:

Why, then is my pump well flowered.

MERCUTIO:

Sure Witt! Now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo;

now art thou what thou art, by art as well as by

nature.

ROMEO:

Here's goodly gear!

NURSE:

I desire some confidence with you.

MERCUTIO:

A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! so ho! Romeo! Romeo! Romeo!

Will you come to your father's? we'll to dinner,

thither.

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