Shakespeare's First Folio Part 508

Some say the Larke makes sweete Diuision; This doth not so: for she diuideth vs.

Some say, the Larke and loathed Toad change eyes, O now I would they had chang'd voyces too: Since arme from arme that voyce doth vs affray, Hunting thee hence, with Hunts-vp to the day, O now be gone, more light and it light growes

Rom. More light & light, more darke & darke our woes.

Enter Madam and Nurse.

Nur. Madam

Iul. Nurse

Nur. Your Lady Mother is comming to your chamber, The day is broke, be wary, looke about

Iul. Then window let day in, and let life out

Rom. Farewell, farewell, one kisse and Ile descend

Iul. Art thou gone so? Loue, Lord, ay Husband, Friend, I must heare from thee euery day in the houre, For in a minute there are many dayes, O by this count I shall be much in yeares, Ere I againe behold my Romeo

Rom. Farewell: I will omit no oportunitie, That may conuey my greetings Loue, to thee

Iul. O thinkest thou we shall euer meet againe?

Rom. I doubt it not, and all these woes shall serue For sweet discourses in our time to come

Iuliet. O G.o.d! I haue an ill Diuining soule, Me thinkes I see thee now, thou art so lowe, As one dead in the bottome of a Tombe, Either my eye-sight failes, or thou look'st pale

Rom. And trust me Loue, in my eye so do you: Drie sorrow drinkes our blood. Adue, adue.

Enter.

Iul. O Fortune, Fortune, all men call thee fickle, If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him That is renown'd for faith? be fickle Fortune: For then I hope thou wilt not keepe him long, But send him backe.

Enter Mother.

Lad. Ho Daughter, are you vp?

Iul. Who ist that calls? Is it my Lady Mother.

Is she not downe so late, or vp so early?

What vnaccustom'd cause procures her hither?

Lad. Why how now Iuliet?

Iul. Madam I am not well

Lad. Euermore weeping for your Cozins death?

What wilt thou wash him from his graue with teares?

And if thou could'st, thou could'st not make him liue: Therefore haue done, some griefe shewes much of Loue, But much of griefe, shewes still some want of wit

Iul. Yet let me weepe, for such a feeling losse

Lad. So shall you feele the losse, but not the Friend Which you weepe for

Iul. Feeling so the losse, I cannot chuse but euer weepe the Friend

La. Well Girle, thou weep'st not so much for his death, As that the Villaine liues which slaughter'd him

Iul. What Villaine, Madam?

Lad. That same Villaine Romeo

Iul. Villaine and he, be many miles a.s.sunder: G.o.d pardon, I doe with all my heart: And yet no man like he, doth grieue my heart

Lad. That is because the Traitor liues

Iul. I Madam from the reach of these my hands: Would none but I might venge my Cozins death

Lad. We will haue vengeance for it, feare thou not.

Then weepe no more, Ile send to one in Mantua, Where that same banisht Run-agate doth liue, Shall giue him such an vnaccustom'd dram, That he shall soone keepe Tybalt company: And then I hope thou wilt be satisfied

Iul. Indeed I neuer shall be satisfied With Romeo, till I behold him. Dead Is my poore heart so for a kinsman vext: Madam, if you could find out but a man To beare a poyson, I would temper it; That Romeo should vpon receit thereof, Soone sleepe in quiet. O how my heart abhors To heare him nam'd, and cannot come to him, To wreake the Loue I bore my Cozin, Vpon his body that hath slaughter'd him

Mo. Find thou the meanes, and Ile find such a man.

But now Ile tell thee ioyfull tidings Gyrle

Iul. And ioy comes well, in such a needy time, What are they, beseech your Ladyship?

Mo. Well, well, thou hast a carefull Father Child?

One who to put thee from thy heauinesse, Hath sorted out a sudden day of ioy, That thou expects not, nor I lookt not for

Iul. Madam in happy time, what day is this?

Mo. Marry my Child, early next Thursday morne, The gallant, young, and n.o.ble Gentleman, The Countie Paris at Saint Peters Church, Shall happily make thee a ioyfull Bride

Iul. Now by Saint Peters Church, and Peter too, He shall not make me there a ioyfull Bride.

I wonder at this hast, that I must wed Ere he that should be Husband comes to woe: I pray you tell my Lord and Father Madam, I will not marrie yet, and when I doe, I sweare It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate Rather then Paris. These are newes indeed

Mo. Here comes your Father, tell him so your selfe, And see how he will take it at your hands.

Enter Capulet and Nurse.

Cap. When the Sun sets, the earth doth drizzle deaw But for the Sunset of my Brothers Sonne, It raines downright.

How now? A Conduit Gyrle, what still in teares?

Euermore showring in one little body?

Thou counterfaits a Barke, a Sea, a Wind: For still thy eyes, which I may call the Sea, Do ebbe and flow with teares, the Barke thy body is Sayling in this salt floud, the windes thy sighes, Who raging with the teares and they with them, Without a sudden calme will ouer set Thy tempest tossed body. How now wife?

Haue you deliuered to her our decree?

Lady. I sir; But she will none, she giues you thankes, I would the foole were married to her graue

Cap. Soft, take me with you, take me with you wife, How, will she none? doth she not giue vs thanks?

Is she not proud? doth she not count her blest, Vnworthy as she is, that we haue wrought So worthy a Gentleman, to be her Bridegroome Iul. Not proud you haue, But thankfull that you haue: Proud can I neuer be of what I haue, But thankfull euen for hate, that is meant Loue

Cap. How now?

How now? Chopt Logicke? what is this?

Proud, and I thanke you: and I thanke you not.

Thanke me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds, But fettle your fine ioints 'gainst Thursday next, To go with Paris to Saint Peters Church: Or I will drag thee, on a Hurdle thither.

Out you greene sicknesse carrion, out you baggage, You tallow face

Lady. Fie, fie, what are you mad?

Iul. Good Father, I beseech you on my knees Heare me with patience, but to speake a word

Fa. Hang thee young baggage, disobedient wretch, I tell thee what, get thee to Church a Thursday, Or neuer after looke me in the face.