Romeo and Juliet Page #7

Speak'st thou from thy heart?

Ay, and from my soul, too,

or else beshrew them both.

- Amen.

- What?

Thou hast comforted me marvelous much.

Go in and tell my lady I am gone,

having displeased my father,

to Laurence's cell,

to make confession and to be absolved.

Marry, I will. And this is wisely done.

Ancient damnation!

O most wicked fiend!

Go, counselor.

Thou and my bosom

henceforth shall be twain.

I'll to the friar, to know his remedy.

If all else fail, myself have power to die.

Sir Paris, the time is very short.

My father Capulet will have it so.

And I am nothing slow to slack his haste.

You say you do not know the lady's mind.

Uneven is the course, I like it not.

Immoderately she weeps

for Tybalt's death.

Her father counts it dangerous that

she doth give her sorrow so much sway,

and in his wisdom hastes our marriage.

Now do you know the reason of this haste.

Happily met, my lady and my wife.

Come you to make confession

to this father?

Do not deny to him that you love me.

I will confess to you that I love him.

So will you, I am sure, that you love me.

If I do so, it will be of more price,

being spoke behind your back,

than to your face.

Are you at leisure, holy father, now?

My lord, we must entreat the time alone.

God shield, I should disturb devotion.

Juliet, tomorrow early will I rouse you.

Till then, adieu.

And keep this holy kiss.

Oh, shut the door.

Come weep with me.

Past hope, past cure, past help.

Now, Juliet, I already know thy grief.

Tell me not, Friar, that

thou hear'st of this,

unless thou tell me how I may prevent it.

God joined my heart and Romeo's,

thou our hands.

And ere this hand,

by thee to Romeo's sealed,

shall be the label to another deed,

or my true heart with treacherous revolt

turn to another,

this shall slay them both.

Hold, daughter.

I do spy a kind of hope.

If, rather than to marry County Paris,

thou hast the strength of will

to slay thyself,

then is it likely

thou wilt undertake a thing like death?

And I will do it without fear or doubt,

to live an unstain'd wife to my sweet love.

Hold, then. Go home,

be merry, give consent to marry Paris.

Tonight look that thou lie alone.

Let not thy nurse lie with thee

in thy chamber.

Take thou this vial, being then in bed,

and this distilled liquor drink thou off.

When presently through all thy veins

shall run a cold and drowsy humor,

for no pulse, no warmth, no breath,

shall testify thou livest.

And in this borrow'd likeness

of shrunk death

thou shalt continue two-and-forty hours.

Now, when the bridegroom in the morning

comes to rouse thee from thy bed,

there art thou dead.

Then, as the manner of our country is,

in thy best robes uncover'd on the bier,

thou shalt be borne

to that same ancient vault

where all the kindred of the Capulets lie.

In the mean time,

shall Romeo by my letters know our drift,

and hither shall he come.

And he and I will watch thy waking,

and that very night

shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua.

Oh, give me, give me. Tell me not of fear.

Hold. Get you gone.

Be strong and prosperous in this resolve.

I'll send a friar with speed to Mantua

with my letters to thy lord.

Love give me strength.

Farewell, dear father.

Hence to Mantua.

Early in the morning, see thou deliver it.

Holy Reverend Friar, come, come with me.

- The infectious pestilence.

- Pestilence.

Pestilence.

- Pestilence!

- Pestilence!

Take heed! Take heed! Hold me not!

Take heed!

Ay, those attires are best,

but, gentle nurse, I pray thee,

leave me to myself tonight.

Need you my help?

No, madam.

So please you, let me now be left alone,

and let the nurse this night,

sit up with you,

for I am sure you have your hands full

all in this so sudden business.

Good night. Get thee to bed and rest,

for thou hast need.

Farewell.

God knows when we shall meet again.

I have a faint cold fear

thrill through my veins,

that almost freezes up the heat of life.

I'll call them back, to comfort me. Nurse!

What should she do here?

My dismal scene I needs must act alone.

What if this mixture do not work at all?

Shall I be married then

tomorrow morning?

No, no.

This shall forbid it.

Lie thou there.

What if it be a poison,

which the friar subtly hath minister'd

to have me dead

lest in this marriage

he should be dishonor'd

because he married me before to Romeo?

I fear it is,

and yet, methinks, it should not,

for he hath still been tried a holy man.

How if, when I am laid into the tomb,

I wake before the time

that Romeo come to redeem me?

There is a fearful point.

Shall I not then be stifled in the vault

to whose foul mouth

no healthsome air breathes in?

Or, if I live,

is it not very like the horrible conceit

of death and night

together with the terror of the place

where, for these many hundred years,

the bones of all my buried ancestors

are pack'd,

where bloody Tybalt, yet but green

in earth, lies festering in his shroud,

where as they say

at some hours in the night spirits resort.

Alack, alack, is it not like that I,

so early waking

what with loathsome smells and shrieks

like mandrakes torn out of the earth,

that living mortals, hearing them,

run mad.

O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught,

environed with all these hideous fears,

and madly play with my forefathers' joints

and pluck the mangled Tybalt

from his shroud?

And in this rage with some

great kinsman's bone, as with a club,

dash out my desperate brains?

O, look.

Methinks I see my cousin's ghost

seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body

upon a rapier's point.

Stay, Tybalt, stay.

Romeo, I come.

This do I drink to thee.

Hold.

Take these keys

and fetch more spices, nurse.

They call for dates and quinces

in the pastry.

Nurse! Wife!

What ho! What, nurse, I say.

Go waken Juliet!

Hie, make haste, make haste.

The bridegroom, he is come already.

Mistress! What, Mistress!

Juliet.

Fast, I warrant her, she.

Why, lamb.

Why, lady.

Fie, you slug-a-bed.

What, not a word?

Marry and amen, how sound she is asleep.

I needs must wake her.

Madam,

madam,

madam.

My lord!

My lady!

What noise is here?

What is the matter?

O me.

My child, my only life.

Help, help!

Help!

For shame, bring Juliet forth.

Her lord is come!

Alack the day.

She's dead.

She's dead.

She's dead.

Let me see her.

Death lies on her

like an untimely frost

upon the sweetest flower of all the field.

Hence, in haste. Farewell.

Help! Call help!

If I may trust the

flattering truth of sleep,

my dreams presage

some joyful news at hand.

I dreamt my lady came

and found me dead.

Strange dream that gives a dead man

leave to think.

And breathed such life

with kisses in my lips

that I revived

and was an emperor.

Ah, me.

How sweet is love itself possessed.

When but love's shadows

are so rich in joy.

News from Verona.

How now, Balthasar?

Dost thou not bring me letters

from the friar?

How doth my lady? Is my father well?

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes