Re: A best English romantic story - Romeo and Juliet
Posted: 25 Sep 2015 21:35
Romeo. Go to; I say you shall.
Nurse. This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there.
Romeo. And stay, good nurse, behind the abbey-wall: Within this hour my man shall be with thee, And bring
thee cords made like a tackled stair; Which to the high top-gallant of my joy Must be my convoy in the secret
night. Farewell; be trusty, and I'll quit thy pains: Farewell; commend me to thy mistress.
Nurse. Now God in heaven bless thee!--Hark you, sir.
Romeo. What say'st thou, my dear nurse?
Nurse. Is your man secret? Did you ne'er hear say, Two may keep counsel, putting one away?
Romeo. I warrant thee, my man's as true as steel.
Nurse. Well, sir; my mistress is the sweetest lady.--Lord, Lord! when 'twas a little prating thing,--O, there's a
nobleman in town, one Paris, that would fain lay knife aboard; but she, good soul, had as lief see a toad, a
very toad, as see him. I anger her sometimes, and tell her that Paris is the properer man; but I'll warrant you,
when I say so, she looks as pale as any clout in the versal world. Doth not rosemary and Romeo begin both
with a letter?
Romeo. Ay, nurse; what of that? both with an R.
Nurse. Ah, mocker! that's the dog's name. R is for the dog: no; I know it begins with some other letter:--and
she hath the prettiest sententious of it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you good to hear it.
Romeo. Commend me to thy lady.
Nurse. Ay, a thousand times. [Exit Romeo.]--Peter!
Peter. Anon?
Nurse. Peter, take my fan, and go before.
[Exeunt.]
Scene V. Capulet's Garden.
[Enter Juliet.]
Juliet. The clock struck nine when I did send the nurse; In half an hour she promis'd to return. Perchance she
cannot meet him: that's not so.-- O, she is lame! love's heralds should be thoughts, Which ten times faster
glide than the sun's beams, Driving back shadows over lowering hills: Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves
draw love, And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings. Now is the sun upon the highmost hill Of this
day's journey; and from nine till twelve Is three long hours,--yet she is not come. Had she affections and warm
youthful blood, She'd be as swift in motion as a ball; My words would bandy her to my sweet love, And his to
me: But old folks, many feign as they were dead; Unwieldy, slow, heavy and pale as lead.-- O God, she
comes! [Enter Nurse and Peter]. O honey nurse, what news? Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away.
Nurse. Peter, stay at the gate.
Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor 30
[Exit Peter.]
Juliet. Now, good sweet nurse,--O Lord, why look'st thou sad? Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily; If
good, thou sham'st the music of sweet news By playing it to me with so sour a face.
Nurse. I am aweary, give me leave awhile;-- Fie, how my bones ache! what a jaunt have I had!
Juliet. I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news: Nay, come, I pray thee speak;--good, good nurse, speak.
Nurse. Jesu, what haste? can you not stay awhile? Do you not see that I am out of breath?
Juliet. How art thou out of breath, when thou hast breath To say to me that thou art out of breath? The excuse
that thou dost make in this delay Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse. Is thy news good or bad? answer to
that; Say either, and I'll stay the circumstance: Let me be satisfied, is't good or bad?
Nurse. Well, you have made a simple choice; you know not how to choose a man: Romeo! no, not he; rhough
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,--though
they be not to be talked on, yet they are past compare: he is not the flower of courtesy,--but I'll warrant him as
gentle as a lamb.--Go thy ways, wench; serve God.- -What, have you dined at home?
Juliet. No, no: but all this did I know before. What says he of our marriage? what of that?
Nurse. Lord, how my head aches! what a head have I! It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces. My back o' t'
other side,--O, my back, my back!-- Beshrew your heart for sending me about To catch my death with
jauncing up and down!
Juliet. I' faith, I am sorry that thou art not well. Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love?
Nurse. Your love says, like an honest gentleman, And a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome; And, I
warrant, a virtuous,--Where is your mother?
Juliet. Where is my mother?--why, she is within; Where should she be? How oddly thou repliest! 'Your love
says, like an honest gentleman,-- 'Where is your mother?'
Nurse. O God's lady dear! Are you so hot? marry,come up, I trow; Is this the poultice for my aching bones?
Henceforward,do your messages yourself.
Juliet. Here's such a coil!--come, what says Romeo?
Nurse. Have you got leave to go to shrift to-day?
Juliet. I have.
Nurse. Then hie you hence to Friar Lawrence' cell; There stays a husband to make you a wife: Now comes the
wanton blood up in your cheeks, They'll be in scarlet straight at any news. Hie you to church; I must another
way, To fetch a ladder, by the which your love Must climb a bird's nest soon when it is dark: I am the drudge,
and toil in your delight; But you shall bear the burden soon at night. Go; I'll to dinner; hie you to the cell.
Juliet. Hie to high fortune!--honest nurse, farewell.
[Exeunt.]
Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor 31
Scene VI. Friar Lawrence's Cell.
[Enter Friar Lawrence and Romeo.]
Friar. So smile the heavens upon this holy act That after-hours with sorrow chide us not!
Romeo. Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can, It cannot countervail the exchange of joy That one short
minute gives me in her sight: Do thou but close our hands with holy words, Then love-devouring death do
what he dare,-- It is enough I may but call her mine.
Friar. 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, And in the taste confounds the
appetite: Therefore love moderately: long love doth so; Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. Here comes the
lady:--O, so light a foot Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint: A lover may bestride the gossamer That idles
in the wanton summer air And yet not fall; so light is vanity.
[Enter Juliet.]
Juliet. Good-even to my ghostly confessor.
Friar. Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both.
Juliet. As much to him, else is his thanks too much.
Romeo. Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy Be heap'd like mine, and that thy skill be more To blazon it, then
sweeten with thy breath This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue Unfold the imagin'd happiness that
both Receive in either by this dear encounter.
Juliet. Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, Brags of his substance, not of ornament: They are but
beggars that can count their worth; But my true love is grown to such excess, I cannot sum up sum of half my
wealth.
Friar. Come, come with me, and we will make short work; For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone Till
holy church incorporate two in one.
[Exeunt.]
ACT III.
Scene I. A public Place.
[Enter Mercutio, Benvolio, Page, and Servants.]
Benvolio. I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire: The day is hot, the Capulets abroad, And, if we meet, we
shall not scape a brawl; For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring.
Mercutio. 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.
Benvolio. Am I like such a fellow?
Nurse. This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there.
Romeo. And stay, good nurse, behind the abbey-wall: Within this hour my man shall be with thee, And bring
thee cords made like a tackled stair; Which to the high top-gallant of my joy Must be my convoy in the secret
night. Farewell; be trusty, and I'll quit thy pains: Farewell; commend me to thy mistress.
Nurse. Now God in heaven bless thee!--Hark you, sir.
Romeo. What say'st thou, my dear nurse?
Nurse. Is your man secret? Did you ne'er hear say, Two may keep counsel, putting one away?
Romeo. I warrant thee, my man's as true as steel.
Nurse. Well, sir; my mistress is the sweetest lady.--Lord, Lord! when 'twas a little prating thing,--O, there's a
nobleman in town, one Paris, that would fain lay knife aboard; but she, good soul, had as lief see a toad, a
very toad, as see him. I anger her sometimes, and tell her that Paris is the properer man; but I'll warrant you,
when I say so, she looks as pale as any clout in the versal world. Doth not rosemary and Romeo begin both
with a letter?
Romeo. Ay, nurse; what of that? both with an R.
Nurse. Ah, mocker! that's the dog's name. R is for the dog: no; I know it begins with some other letter:--and
she hath the prettiest sententious of it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you good to hear it.
Romeo. Commend me to thy lady.
Nurse. Ay, a thousand times. [Exit Romeo.]--Peter!
Peter. Anon?
Nurse. Peter, take my fan, and go before.
[Exeunt.]
Scene V. Capulet's Garden.
[Enter Juliet.]
Juliet. The clock struck nine when I did send the nurse; In half an hour she promis'd to return. Perchance she
cannot meet him: that's not so.-- O, she is lame! love's heralds should be thoughts, Which ten times faster
glide than the sun's beams, Driving back shadows over lowering hills: Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves
draw love, And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings. Now is the sun upon the highmost hill Of this
day's journey; and from nine till twelve Is three long hours,--yet she is not come. Had she affections and warm
youthful blood, She'd be as swift in motion as a ball; My words would bandy her to my sweet love, And his to
me: But old folks, many feign as they were dead; Unwieldy, slow, heavy and pale as lead.-- O God, she
comes! [Enter Nurse and Peter]. O honey nurse, what news? Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away.
Nurse. Peter, stay at the gate.
Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor 30
[Exit Peter.]
Juliet. Now, good sweet nurse,--O Lord, why look'st thou sad? Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily; If
good, thou sham'st the music of sweet news By playing it to me with so sour a face.
Nurse. I am aweary, give me leave awhile;-- Fie, how my bones ache! what a jaunt have I had!
Juliet. I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news: Nay, come, I pray thee speak;--good, good nurse, speak.
Nurse. Jesu, what haste? can you not stay awhile? Do you not see that I am out of breath?
Juliet. How art thou out of breath, when thou hast breath To say to me that thou art out of breath? The excuse
that thou dost make in this delay Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse. Is thy news good or bad? answer to
that; Say either, and I'll stay the circumstance: Let me be satisfied, is't good or bad?
Nurse. Well, you have made a simple choice; you know not how to choose a man: Romeo! no, not he; rhough
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,--though
they be not to be talked on, yet they are past compare: he is not the flower of courtesy,--but I'll warrant him as
gentle as a lamb.--Go thy ways, wench; serve God.- -What, have you dined at home?
Juliet. No, no: but all this did I know before. What says he of our marriage? what of that?
Nurse. Lord, how my head aches! what a head have I! It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces. My back o' t'
other side,--O, my back, my back!-- Beshrew your heart for sending me about To catch my death with
jauncing up and down!
Juliet. I' faith, I am sorry that thou art not well. Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love?
Nurse. Your love says, like an honest gentleman, And a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome; And, I
warrant, a virtuous,--Where is your mother?
Juliet. Where is my mother?--why, she is within; Where should she be? How oddly thou repliest! 'Your love
says, like an honest gentleman,-- 'Where is your mother?'
Nurse. O God's lady dear! Are you so hot? marry,come up, I trow; Is this the poultice for my aching bones?
Henceforward,do your messages yourself.
Juliet. Here's such a coil!--come, what says Romeo?
Nurse. Have you got leave to go to shrift to-day?
Juliet. I have.
Nurse. Then hie you hence to Friar Lawrence' cell; There stays a husband to make you a wife: Now comes the
wanton blood up in your cheeks, They'll be in scarlet straight at any news. Hie you to church; I must another
way, To fetch a ladder, by the which your love Must climb a bird's nest soon when it is dark: I am the drudge,
and toil in your delight; But you shall bear the burden soon at night. Go; I'll to dinner; hie you to the cell.
Juliet. Hie to high fortune!--honest nurse, farewell.
[Exeunt.]
Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor 31
Scene VI. Friar Lawrence's Cell.
[Enter Friar Lawrence and Romeo.]
Friar. So smile the heavens upon this holy act That after-hours with sorrow chide us not!
Romeo. Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can, It cannot countervail the exchange of joy That one short
minute gives me in her sight: Do thou but close our hands with holy words, Then love-devouring death do
what he dare,-- It is enough I may but call her mine.
Friar. 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, And in the taste confounds the
appetite: Therefore love moderately: long love doth so; Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. Here comes the
lady:--O, so light a foot Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint: A lover may bestride the gossamer That idles
in the wanton summer air And yet not fall; so light is vanity.
[Enter Juliet.]
Juliet. Good-even to my ghostly confessor.
Friar. Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both.
Juliet. As much to him, else is his thanks too much.
Romeo. Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy Be heap'd like mine, and that thy skill be more To blazon it, then
sweeten with thy breath This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue Unfold the imagin'd happiness that
both Receive in either by this dear encounter.
Juliet. Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, Brags of his substance, not of ornament: They are but
beggars that can count their worth; But my true love is grown to such excess, I cannot sum up sum of half my
wealth.
Friar. Come, come with me, and we will make short work; For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone Till
holy church incorporate two in one.
[Exeunt.]
ACT III.
Scene I. A public Place.
[Enter Mercutio, Benvolio, Page, and Servants.]
Benvolio. I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire: The day is hot, the Capulets abroad, And, if we meet, we
shall not scape a brawl; For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring.
Mercutio. 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.
Benvolio. Am I like such a fellow?