Autogenerated Romeo and Juliet Dialogs

# 01

JULIET.
Do thou call me Juliet?

ROMEO.
O, then, what doth her name?
Her name’s shame is too great.
She calls it poison. Poor mother, she speaks of a dead man.
Where is she? Where is she? How rudely doth her name lodge
In my misery? Hast thou the voice of my lady?

JULIET.
Where is she? Why doth her name lodge
In hell so early?
O, she says she can be found only in dreams.

ROMEO.
Wert thou here, what sorrow calls me?

JULIET.
Ay, Juliet, I dreamt of the east.

ROMEO.
Not now. What doth that sorrow think me to be of such?
Why, is it a grief I feel so envious,
To have such a feeling of her stead?
It is nothing but spite, it is like the lean of an enemy.
Haply to him call her back again,
But he injures her with more severity
Than by his severity I might temper her.
O, what a wound she must have.

JULIET.
Alack, madam, if thou art not a pilot,
Then thou too slow to think of the sound of my heels.

ROMEO.
By the way, how oddly fast the roaring wind blows.
Shall I come again to shore?

JULIET.
The battle, and all my fortunes.

ROMEO.
A thousand times better than thou art at thy finger.

JULIET.
Ay me, how doth my love?

ROMEO.
By his love, I defy you.

JULIET.
Wert thou there, how oddly fast he blows.

ROMEO.
O that is not Romeo, it is Juliet.

JULIET.
O, how doth my love?

ROMEO.
By his love, I defy thee.

JULIET.
Hie hence for thy pains, for I know thou dost not
Delay thy exposition of the reason of thy love.

JULIET.
O my heart, that Romeo should not hear my voice,
Is but one word that in thy breast
Reems like sweet fellowship to such a greeting.
Shall I henceforth hence?
Or shall I speak for such courtesy in my heart,
Which Romeo should have the honour of having
Taking to heart?
Either I will tear the hateful coil
And use the lively breath of his lips.
Or will I return him to my native town.
Either I’ll descend thence,
Or with more honour, and take my man back.

ROMEO.
Out of thy wisdom, I’ll answer thee.

JULIET.
O my soul! That thou art my friend
Is proof enough, or proof enough, or proof enough,
That by thy consent I should propagate
The true religion of thy exposition
Which thou dost propagate.
It is not but my soul I shall propagate,
Which, even so sudden, proves true enough,
To mar the validity of all my opposition.

JULIET.
O tell me not, that thou art too sudden.
If I be, thou wilt propagate it.
For if either thou love’s or me do,
It behoveth me to propagate. But, if I, afe,
The other, to propagate, be as sudden
As I propagate the religion I love.

# 02

JULIET.
O blessed man, what fortune in such a case
Did cause you hither hither hither hither hither.

ROMEO.
It was my father, that procures me hither.

JULIET.
I may be much vex’d, yet let ’mine be joy;
It ’s an honour to me;
I must crave it; for it ’s mine own.

ROMEO.
And to be prosperous in my lady’s view,
Not so much to be poor as to love,
Unless by their favour my lady puts
To enrich me.
O most discreet villain! ’tis my debt
To you, that lent me your help
In my behalf.
The conceal’d treasure, which you lent
To conceal it from me,
Was the merchandise you took.
Faulty art thou mine, or treacherous merchandise?
‘Back to me before thou didst request it;
Thou sham’st not my merchandise. What ’s more,
A counterfeit? A counterfeit of a bargain?
O, I may shame thee, for that ’tis more honour
Than a bargain. Ah, the game of thine own hand.

JULIET.
Good Mercutio, bid me fortune.

ROMEO.
Proud lord, to hear that I am prosperous.
Some say the music is too hoarse;
And yet all men call it so. I am, I am.
My lady, Fortune says, I am too fair,
For I am too fair. Poor, she says, I am too fair,
And she speaks ill of me as if she saw
A cockatrice. O, she speaks ill of a fair goose.
O, I am too fair, she speaks ill of a fair goose.
O, she speaks ill of a fair lamb,
And that is not fair enough for that she had
To think me fair. O, she speaks ill of a fair boar.

JULIET.
‘Tis true, I am too fair. O, she speaks ill of a fair goose.

ROMEO.
Away from that, from that, she speaks ill of a fair goose.
What, I wonder, what ’s wrong with that?
‘Tis noise enough to make thee forget.
Thou speakest ill of my lady’s face,
But that ’s not so. O, she speaks ill of a fair boar.
What, is’t not enough for that she had?

JULIET.
I warrant it, that ‘tis not so.

ROMEO.
Thou hast made me swear an unaccustom’d name
By thy stepping sun; yet I am not bound.

JULIET.
Ay, my father, I am too fair.

ROMEO.
Madam, what’s wrong with that?

JULIET.
My mind is too rough to bear words,
’tis too rude to speak; but ’tis well I will speak.
What, she speaks ill of a fair goose.
What, she speaks ill of a fair boar? What, she speaks ill of a fair goose?
What, what in the world is that,
That, so oft so merrily spoke of a fair goose,
That she hath asunder’d itself to this day?

JULIET.
By the grace of thy sweet health’s bounty I now hop,
And without fail, from thy help pack’d,
Take that sweet boar. Thus I lead thee on,
And, if thou art not so bold, I’ll go with thee.

ROMEO.
By, dear father! Good Mercutio,
Good Mercutio, give me the cloak!

ROMEO.
What’s wrong with that? It is very rude,
And light indeed, too soft to bear words.

JULIET.
What—is it noise enough? What noise shall make thee forget,
If I be so bold as to speak it again?

ROMEO.
By, good Mercutio.

JULIET.
O my God, if the news be true,
My true heart, my true heart,
Thou too true-faith-feeling, too true-feeling,
To believe it but what thou speak’st. Therefore stay,
For I will speak what thou speak’st:
For ‘tis all my own free will.

ROMEO.
By faith, good Mercutio.

# 03

ROMEO.
How long now, love? What sorrows, madam? What joys
Come hither hither from my lips? What says I to thee?

JULIET.
O, madam, I beseech your pardon. My heart’s peace
Is at an end.

JULIET.
Pardon, madam. What sorrows have I in my heart?

ROMEO.
‘Bid my fortunes attend a feasting.

JULIET.
O God! what sorrows hath my soul?
I’ll say to thee, good Mercutio!
My mind is so full of joy that
My conduct fails me. Poor my conduct!
My lips are full of sin. Poor my heart!
What’s my state? Is it so?

JULIET.
‘Thou art so fair, so fair I should blush.
This is not Romeo, it is Capulet!
Why, no, not even Romeo!
Hadst thou a torch, he would have smil’d my kinsman;
But ‘tis not myself, it is ‘Lucio.
Why, not even Romeo? It is a villain’s mask!
If, when I am slain,
My ghostly-goose’s-hain’d poison be shed,
‘tis not Romeo, it is Capulet, the Capulet of my birth.

ROMEO.
‘Bid my fortunes attend a feasting.
This is not Romeo, it is Capulet!
Didst thou a torch, he would have smil’d my kinsman;
But ‘tis not myself, it is ‘Luc circumstance!
Why, not even Romeo? It is a villain’s mask!
Didst thou a torch, he would have slain my ghostly-goose,
‘tis not myself, it is ‘Lucio.

ROMEO.
If Juliet’s hand is on thy cheek, so shalt thou be smooth.
What villain should not be smooth for a desperate man,
But cut short with a kiss?

JULIET.
O, if that hand be gentle, then love should slay it with a bow.

ROMEO.
That villain should, for I am no conquer’d foe.
What villain should not, for I am a conquer’d foe.

JULIET.
That villain should, I am not conquer’d.
What villain should not, for I am not a conquer’d foe.

ROMEO.
This’s not Romeo, it is ‘Lucio.
What villain should not, for I am not conquer’d.

JULIET.
What villain should, for I am no conquer’d foe?
O, if that hand be gentle, then love should slay it with a bow.

ROMEO.
Then I will tear the ground with a single stroke,
And lead a desperate man mad.
This is not Romeo, it is Capulet.
Hadst thou a torch, he would have smil’d my kinsman;
But ‘tis not myself, it is‘Lucio.

JULIET.
What villain should, for I am not conquer’d.

ROMEO.
‘Now, good Mercutio!

JULIET.
‘Tis not Romeo, it is Juliet!

ROMEO.
‘I would have slain him with a bow
And cut his head short in half
Without sparing a single drop of his blood.

JULIET.
What’s my state? Is‘tis—
The’s death is too near.

ROMEO.
‘Tis not the world. This is not Romeo, it is Juliet!

JULIET.
What villain should be my confessor?

ROMEO.
A madman! A madman!

ROMEO.
A madman!

JULIET.
What villain should I send to torment my lord?

ROMEO.
‘Tis not Romeo, it is Capulet.

JULIET.
What villain should not, for I am not conquer’d.

ROMEO.
‘I have learnt, that in a passion murder
It is added to poison’s price,
To kill one that pricks the other.

# 04

JULIET.
But if my strength are but a little, and your strength can make me rich, give me strength, send me strength.
A voice doth comfort me, that is comfort enough.

JULIET.
How oft shall I be satisfied with a candle
Doth not the roaring of my heart
To hear of a triumphant Tybalt?

ROMEO.
No, sir. Get the light from the tower
With thy consent.

JULIET.
Thou art my friend. What dost thou, that is the Prince?

ROMEO.
What dost thou that dost torment?
The siege of Peter’s Churchyard,
Or the siege of Paris,
Which I love, if thou mayst, for thy help?

ROMEO.
And that thou wilt depend on me, sir?

ROMEO.
A thousand times more dependant must I depend.
Now that thou hast been satisfied, go away.

JULIET.
I have said farewell to my true knight. I beseech thee that thou leave me,
And may I still remain ever rul’d in my behalf.

ROMEO.
What an unquenchable faith I shall have to follow thee.

ROMEO.
A thousand times more dependant must I depend.
Now that thou hast been satisfied, go away.

JULIET.
I have said farewell to my true knight. I beseech thee that thou leave me,
And may I still remain ever rul’d in my behalf.
O God! the time and the day are both long gone,
And yet I am content and content. Get thee hence, and farewell.
The clouds are brief and unaccustom’d,
And I’ll say farewell at once to thee,
And may I still be rul’d.

ROMEO.
Now come, my true knight! Come hither,
And bid me come true father, true friend,
And teach me the ways of Friar Lawrence
And take my lodging in thy glorious palace.

ROMEO.
And bid me live long, till I come to thee.

JULIET.
O, my heart is with thee, O sweet Romeo,
And I am with thee too. Comfort me, and say thanks,
When I am well satisfied, and satisfied with my health,
Leave this earth, and go with me.
I beseech thee that thou leave me.
And may I still be rul’d in my behalf.

ROMEO.
Now come, my true knight! Come hither,
And bid me come true father, true friend,
And teach me the ways of Friar Lawrence
And take my lodging in thy glorious palace.

ROMEO.
And bid me live long, till I come to thee.

JULIET.
O, my heart is with thee, O sweet Romeo,
And I am with thee too. Comfort me, and say thanks,
When I am well satisfied, and satisfied with my health,
Leave this earth, and go with me.
I beseech thee that thou leave me.
And may I still be rul’d in my behalf.

ROMEO.
Now come, my true knight! Come hither,
And bid me come true father, true friend,
And teach me the ways of Friar Lawrence
And take my lodging in thy glorious palace.

ROMEO.
And bid me live long, till I come to thee.

JULIET.
O, my heart is with thee, O sweet Romeo,
And I am with thee too. Comfort me, and say thanks,
When I am well satisfied, and satisfied with my health,
Leave this this earth, and go with me.
I beseech thee that thou leave me.
And may I still be rul’d in my behalf.

ROMEO.
Now come, my true knight! Come hither,
And bid me come true father, true friend,
And teach me the ways of Friar Lawrence
And take my lodging in thy glorious palace.

ROMEO.
And bid me live long, till I come to thee.

JULIET.
What a lovely face I have, that art so fine!

ROMEO.
A thousand times more lovely than I am now!

JULIET.
What a lovely face I have, that art so fine!

ROMEO.
A thousand times more loving than I am now!

JULIET.
And so sweet, so sweet is my breath!

ROMEO.
This noise was

# 05

JULIET.
Ay, I see you have forgot wherefore thou art,
For I am come hither hither to stay,
To help thee purify thy body.

ROMEO.
If this be so, let him speak this in behalf of Romeo
Which in no wise is praiseworthy;
For, in truth, it is my nature,
To minister a man to another;
That man should not be praiseworthy;
Therefore I descend from heaven,
And dispraise him that dares sin’s eye
With holy confession.

JULIET.
But if he do, and that confession is sin’d,
So that he too may be sin’d,
And that confession may prove
Just cause for a new sin to be absolv’d.

ROMEO.
If then, then, then, let him speak this in behalf of Romeo
Which in no wise is praiseworthy;
For, in truth, it is my nature,
To minister a man to another;
That man should not be praiseworthy;
Therefore I descend from heaven,
And dispraise him that dares sin’s eye
With holy confession.

JULIET.
But if he do, and that confession is sin’d,
So that he too may be sin’d,
And that confession may prove
Just cause for a new sin to be absolv’d.

ROMEO.
If then, then, then, let him speak this in behalf
Of Romeo
Which in no wise is praiseworthy;
For, in truth, it is my nature,
To minister a man to another;
That man should not be praiseworthy;
Therefore I descend from heaven,
And dispraise him that dares sin’s eye
With holy confession.

JULIET.
But if he do, and that confession is sin’d,
So that he too may be sin’d,
And that confession may prove
Just cause for a new sin to be absolv’d.

ROMEO.
If then, then, then, let him speak this in behalf of Romeo
Which in no wise is praiseworthy;
For, in truth, it is my nature,
To minister a man to another;
That man should not be praiseworthy;
Therefore I descend from heaven,
And dispraise him that dares sin’s eye
With holy confession.

JULIET.
O my lord, how art thou so quickly? What a beast is
This Romeo’’s, and for that matter
Is I too late. O be not so rash,
Nor with patience have I been slow;
As I have been thy nurse,
And all that hath been for thee
O’er is for ever rul’d in my hand.
Farewell, thou wast my husband.

ROMEO.
’Now, my lord; what a beast
This gentleman is that dost make thee move,
Being much more rude to thee than he is to me.
Now, I am not long to be a husband
To thee, nor have I the means
To perform many other such a wedding.
I am therefore here at my lord’s door,
So thou mayst not provoke me to yet be married.

JULIET.
Now, my lord; what a beast
This gentleman is that dost make thee move,
Being much more rude to thee than he is to me.
Now, I am not long to be a husband
To thee, nor have I the means
To perform many other such a wedding.
I am therefore here at my lord’s door,
So thou mayst not provoke me to yet be married.

JULIET.
O, what a beast! O, what a wife!

ROMEO.
’Farewell, thou wast my husband.

JULIET.
Now, my lord; what a beast!

ROMEO.
Farewell, thou wast my husband.

JULIET.
Again, what a beast!

ROMEO.
Farewell, thou wast my husband.

JULIET.
I will, therefore, and thou wilt provoke me further.
But when I do, let me first prepare myself.
Haply I may enrich myself with thy necessaries.
Here’s to supper.

ROMEO.
Nurse, how dost thou furnish me with necessaries?

JULIET.
How dost thou furnish me

# 06

JULIET.
No, no, no, no,
I know it must be so. Shall we begin the siege?
I will come, gentle Mercutio, and tear
The walls in half,
With a sick man in his bottomless sack,
And then take him out to die. O my love, take his life
And sell him body and soul. O!

ROMEO.
Give me the light. I sell thee poison,
Take me from thy lips, kill me, take the maidenhead
From thy lips, give me the morsel of thy blood
Within thy flowering vault. O, look, give me the light
And kill him. O!

ROMEO.
If that did, what shall be my price?

JULIET.
Give me the light. I sell thee poison,
Take me from thy lips, kill me, take the maidenhead
From thy lips, give me the morsel of thy blood
Within thy flowering vault. O, look, give me the light
And kill him. O!

ROMEO.
If that did, what shall be my price?

JULIET.
Give me the light. I sell thee poison,
Take me from thy lips, kill me, take the maidenhead
From thy lips, give me the morsel of thy blood
Within thy flowering vault. O, look, give me the light
And kill him. O!

ROMEO.
If that did, what shall be my price?

JULIET.
Give me the light. I sell thee poison,
Take me from thy lips, kill me, take the maidenhead
From thy lips, give me the morsel of thy blood
Within thy flowering vault. O, look, give me the light
And kill him. O!

ROMEO.
If that did, what shall be my price?

JULIET.
Give me the light. I sell thee poison,
Take me from thy lips, kill me, take the maidenhead
From thy lips, give me the morsel of thy blood
Within thy flowering vault. O, look, give me the light
And kill him. O!

ROMEO.
If that did, what shall be my price?

JULIET.
Give me the light. I sell thee poison,
Take me from thy lips, kill me, take the maidenhead
From thy lips, give me the morsel of thy blood
Within thy flowering vault. O, look, give me the light
And kill him. O!

ROMEO.
If that did, what shall be my price?

JULIET.
Give me the light. I sell thee poison,
Take me from thy lips, kill me, take the maidenhead
From thy lips, give me the morsel of thy blood
Within thy flowering vault. O, look, give me the light
And kill him. O!

ROMEO.
If that did, what shall be my price?

JULIET.
Give me the light. I sell thee poison,
Take me from thy lips, kill me, take the maidenhead
From thy lips, give me the morsel of thy blood
Within thy flowering vault. O, look, give me the light
And kill him. O!

ROMEO.
If that did, what shall be my price?

JULIET.
Give me the light. I sell thee poison,
Take me from thy lips, kill me, take the maidenhead
From thy lips, give me the morsel of thy blood
Within thy flowering vault. O, look, give me the light
And kill him. O!

ROMEO.
If that did, what shall be my price?

JULIET.
Give me the light. I sell thee poison,
Take me from thy lips, kill me, take the maidenhead
From thy lips, give me the morsel of thy blood
Within thy flowering vault. O, look, give me the light
And kill him. O!

ROMEO.
If that did, what shall be my price?

JULIET.
Give me the light. I sell thee poison,
Take me from thy lips, kill me, take the maidenhead
From thy lips, give me the morsel of thy blood
Within thy flowering vault. O, look, give me the light
And kill him. O!

ROMEO.
If that did, what shall be my price?

JULIET.
Give me the light. I sell thee poison,
Take me from thy lips, kill me, take the maidenhead
From thy lips, give me

# 07

JULIET.
That is not so; for my tongue affords that tongue; for it is mine own.

JULIET.
My father loves love and trust me, and is but a minute acquaintance.

ROMEO.
O that is my heart, and she that speaks it is mine.

JULIET.
Forgive me.
Good night, youth, I am sorry you have vexed me.

ROMEO.
Depart.
O madam, I beseech you again.
This is a Mantua, an hour since I had not been in it, and yet I am here.
I have long since had the power of hearing it; and am not yet attaining it.

ROMEO.
Thou art deceiv’d, and have amorous thoughts.
Therefore resign myself, villain!
Thou thinkest my conduct ample, even that I have more cunning in this business
than thou canst at thy hand.
Yet, Fortune will teach me to laugh. Look thou,
A Capulet, a dagger, a bow,
A torch, a messenger’s vestal’s ring. O, there are no masks, for there is no face.
Here’s to thee, and all that thou canst not sell,
Is for thee but in thy breast, so that I may not hurt thee.
Now, madam, give me strength. Ah, I am much advanced in health,
Yet am I not as strong as thou think.

ROMEO.
Give me strength. Get thee a dagger, and bid me leap into the air.
Hold fast to this desperate vow.
Spread my arms and press to this desperate point,
Together I will not let myself be disraven’d.
Thou art not Romeo but Juliet.

JULIET.
O blessed be the name!
For so flattering a name to me I have it,
In loving company with my sweet love.
Thus I will die, and be buried in thy memory.

ROMEO.
O blessed be the name!
For so flattering a name to me I have it,
In loving company with my sweet love.
Thus I will die, and be buried in thy memory.

JULIET.
How now art thou laden with grief, and have thou no ink to read?
My conduct is so poor! What dost thou think of that?
Why art thou here?
’ROMEO.
Because thou art here. And not only, but even now have I lost all my strength,
And am as pale and pale-feather’d as a dove.
Therefore, therefore, excuse me from this hungry compliment.
O, how dost thou think I am passing through this palace tonight?

JULIET.
A maid hath pity on her beauty. How, then, art thou here?

ROMEO.
Not for the world.
Hie hence farewell, poor wretched fellow.
The world’s hands do spit thy tears out in joy.
I am so hungry and am hungry for thy tears,
I will not give thee that. I will take thee.
Good night, my love.

# 08

JULIET.
There is a joyful Prince’s band that is in motion at this hour,
And they say: What say’st thou?

ROMEO.
Lady, tell me, what cause made thee here?

JULIET.
I dreamt of Juliet, the fairest woman in all the world,
And of a Capulet in a snowy heap;
So bound and stifled that none but fools could touch her,
That none but fools might touch her head.

ROMEO.
No, I dreamt thou there of one;
That I may at leisure hereafter seize this
The gorgeous Seducing Cupid of my love.

JULIET.
But I doubt not. What effect can this have?

ROMEO.
Love, it is my dear Rosaline, who first gives birth to joy
To all this world. Love, therefore, if you can find it,
Leave me to your own devise, and every attempt
To modern tongue
Proceed with more honourable opposition.
If love be a smoke, I’ll be a torchbearer
To all this world in a minute. Eyes, therefore, to all my woes,
Than these woes have some light tips. Love
’s crown, which is almost crimson in moon’s tears,
Maintains air above the ground, and breathes air above the air;
What if love were as swift as a sail?

# 09

JULIET.
What did the Prince of Pomegranate mean?

ROMEO.
Well, that is a pity, if he saw my cheek.

JULIET.
The Prince told me that he would. What news?
What is his business? I will answer by no means.
Madam, when fortune first fair lady dies,
She will be with you in snowy banquets. Get her there. If she be found,
I pray thee tell the Prince, to make her pay for that grave.

ROMEO.
I do protest lest she should fail at what I bid her do,
Where thou art poor, Nurse. Poor thing, Nurse! Poor thing! Poor thing!
My heart’s dear mother lives in such wretched misery.
How should I be poor, then? How should I comfort her?

ROMEO.
Madam, if a man as rich and prosperous
As myself be poor, cannot starve, and if I be rich,
I’ll have to make use of that wretched state.

JULIET.
O that was not so. How oft I was so out of breath,
And with that contrary unrest
O’er-pinion’d tongue I’d spit in a fit of sorrow
I’ll cram myself into a senseless grave. Think it well. Think it well!
I have no pity on you; I have no pity on that poor fellow.
Madam, how often in thy sight
As I was with that damned beggar
Did I so protest when I met you there?
I have no pity on you; I have a poison in my veins,
Which, to die with that fiend’s-dead face,
May serve to lure this fiend from his embrace.
O, so I may prove
My love to myself, by making you die like a lamb.
I know that love is but a tender thing,
That it freezes up into small bits, like lentils.
I have an inexhaustible supply of deadly poison,
To keep me going forward in that twisted fate.
But when I behold it I will die a loathsome death,
Like a dead man whose spirit is writhing in the bottom of his eyes.
O, if love have power, what unrest of love can
Ensure the swift death of a fiend’s-dead-self?
Farewell, good Nurse.

JULIET.
How oft I am so out of breath, and with that contrary unrest
O’er–piniond tongue I’d spit in a-piniond rage
That made me spit in such a needy need,
That it made me sink so low in the bottom of my grief,
I could not move it but sink to the bottom of my grief,
And die like that fiend.

# 10

JULIET.
O God! Didst thou kill the Prince’s brother? And didst thou kill the Prince’s brother? Or didst thou kill him, and all the others? And if so, how shall I know it? And how shall I know it?

ROMEO.
I’ll stay the Prince!
ROMEO.
He’s dead, he is dead! O trespass’d man, by thy treacherous tears! Thou wilt find me banished,
It is a sin to dwell with a kinsman dead; but if I live,
It’s better for him that liveth with him,
For if thou dislike’st him, do tear him away,
And make him smoke’d, or make him beguil me out of my misery
By tormenting my kinsman in prison. O be not like this,
’Tis better for him than for himself that liveth with me,
For I, being poor, am more wretched to him than he.

ROMEO.
Not so, my ghost, I have a ghostly rage against thee
That hath more terror in me than in thee:

JULIET.
And now I defy thee, and stumblest thou off the dragon’s crown!

ROMEO.
How shall I know it, thou ghostly maw, when thou art so envious
Of all these slain compounds’s compounds? What’s in my breast? What’s in my blood? What poison’d spirit breathes in my cheeks?

JULIET.
Come, get your conceal’d shoes, and hide them in closets. These are the masks
Of the Mercutio Martino, to be kept up till the Prince’s doom.
Come, let me into the tomb, and see who is there.

ROMEO.
Whither shall I? Why, come hither hither, and stay the night.
I have some poison that thou dost poison me. Come, let me in, and see what thou findst.
Do thou find any poison? Answer, and if not, kill me immediately.
Farewell.
Signior, adorn me with a herald’s ring.

JULIET.
And now’s mandrakes have struck fear into the air.
It is Saint Peter who doth comfort the Prince’s dead,
And Peter the herald’s’ dead! O, who is that? O, what’s wrong with that?
O, I am an honest man, and ’tis but an honourable vow.
Therefore stand thou still, stand thou still, stand thou still, stand thou still, stand thou still.

# 11

JULIET.
How should the tongue of God talk to you, when you have drunk this poison,
Delay the holy rites by a month?

ROMEO.
Well, when the holy father of the Church
Depart, she doth send his dove
To fetch me from thence; and when she comes,
I’ll make her herald with more splendour
And bound her to the white sheet, which she hath
With silver plucks the feathers that mark Tybalt’s birth.

JULIET.
Then would that he should call her Juliet!

ROMEO.
Indeed I fear not; she is too fair.

JULIET.
’Tush not your cheek with thy mother’ tears;’
For what part of hers are you? Do not weep; for she
Is not your own, and she’s a Capulet.

ROMEO.
Nurse, if you see Juliet, be not so gentle;
For when she gives birth to that maiden,
Her pumpad is like lightning. When, on my knees,
My hands, with that unaccustom’d tongue
Taking from her lips, I use to suck the dead man’s blood,
I never die. Let her keep the word.

JULIET.
Amen.

ROMEO.
’Tush not your cheek with thy mother’ tears;
For what part of hers are
Your own? When she gives birth to that maiden,
Her pumpad is like lightning. When, on my knees,
My hands, with that un tackled tomb
My knees, with that unaccustom’d tongue
Taking from her lips, I use the dead man’s blood,
In a new way preserving it and purg’d for new use.

JULIET.
If I may confess, thou sham’st my soul.

ROMEO.
Not guilty, madam, but sworn thou wilt confess it,
In open lips. So I will stand confess’d;
And, to the great shame and an honour, I’ll say no.
My soul, in truth, is too full of lies,
Which in their turn reviv’d to tell good and unclean lies.

JULIET.
Then am I as guilty as before:
But all this while my heart is so rul’d
By a passion so bold
That even the roaring of a dragon’s roar may not return.
This is not my father, or my husband;
This’s a grave sin! And yet, methinks, the measure of thy beauty,
Is much in the severity of this vow.

ROMEO.
O, what a wound! O that I may not speak of it.
It is my ghostly confessor,
Who, hearing the news,’er pours out a bloody grave shroud
To bear his name upon our behalf.

JULIET.
It is but so, and I am too young to be of help.

ROMEO.
Amen, amen.

JULIET.
Go along.

# 12

ROMEO.
Farewell.

JULIET.
Where I have learnt me to repent the sin
Of disobedient opposition
To you and your behests; and am enjoin’d
By holy Lawrence to fall prostrate here,
To beg your pardon. Pardon, I beseech you.
Henceforward I am ever rul’d by you.

ULIET.
Where I have learnt me to repent the sin
Of disobedient opposition
To you and your behests; and am enjoin’d
By holy Lawrence to fall prostrate here,
To beg your pardon. Pardon, I beseech you.
Henceforward I am ever rul’d by you.

JULIET.
I met the youthful lord at Lawrence’ cell,
And gave him what becomed love I might,
Not stepping o’er the bounds of modesty.

ROMEO.
Have not I forsworn to marry, and have remained faithful to my lord,
But now turn to the east,
And find out for myself who I am living with!

JULIET.
— But if you do not, I defy you, stars!
Thou know’st my lodging. Get me ink and paper,
And hire post-horses. I will hence tonight.

ROMEO.
Farewell.

JULIET.
Where I have learnt me to repent the sin
Of disobedient opposition
To you and your behests; and am enjoin’d
By holy Lawrence to fall prostrate here,
To beg your pardon. Pardon, I beseech you.
Henceforward I am ever rul’d by you.

JULIET.
I met the youthful lord at Lawrence’ cell,
And gave him what becomed love I might,
Not stepping o’er the bounds of modesty.

ROMEO.
Have not I forsworn to marry, and have remained faithful to my lord,
But now turn to the east,
And find out for myself who I am living with!

JULIET.
I met the youthful lord at Lawrence’ cell,
And gave him what becomed love I might,
Not stepping o’er the bounds of modesty.

ROMEO.
Have not I forsworn to marry, and have remained faithful to my lord,
But now turn to the east,
And find out for myself who I am living with!

JULIET.
By and by I come—

ULIET.
I met the youthful lord at Lawrence’ cell,
And gave him what becomed love I might,
Not stepping o’er the bounds of modesty.

ROMEO.
Have not I forsworn to marry, and have remained faithful to my lord,
But now turn to the east,
And find out for myself who I am living with!

JULIET.
By and by I come—

JULIET.
I met the youthful lord at Lawrence’ cell,
And gave him what becomed love I might,
Not stepping o’er the bounds of modesty.

ROMEO.
Have not I forsworn to marry, and have remained faithful to my lord,
But now turn to the east,
And find out for myself who I am living with!

JULIET.
By and by I come—

JULIET.
I met the youthful lord at Lawrence’ cell,
And gave him what becomed love I might,
Not stepping o’er the bounds of modesty.

ROMEO.
Have not I forsworn to marry, and have remained faithful to my lord,
But now turn to the east,
And find out for myself who I am living with!

JULIET.
And now, good gentle youth,
I beseech you on my knees, sisters,
Whate’er I may or may not wed,
Is Lawrence’ cell yet so rough as to break the bank,
And left no man to take his last farewell.

ULIET.
By and by I come—

JULIET.
I met the youthful lord at Lawrence’ cell,
And gave him what becomed love I might,
Not stepping o’er the bounds of modesty.

# 13

JULIET.
Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?
Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name,
When I thy three-hours’ wife have mangled it?
But wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin?
That villain cousin would have kill’d my husband.
Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring,
Your tributary drops belong to woe,
Which you mistaking offer up to joy.
My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain,
And Tybalt’s dead, that would have slain my husband.
All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then?
Some word there was, worser than Tybalt’s death,
That murder’d me. I would forget it fain,
But O, it presses to my memory
Like damned guilty deeds to sinners’ minds.
Tybalt is dead, and Romeo banished.
That ‘banished,’ that one word ‘banished,’
Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt’s death
Was woe enough, if it had ended there.
Or if sour woe delights in fellowship,
And needly will be rank’d with other griefs,
Why follow’d not, when she said Tybalt’s dead,
Thy father or thy mother, nay or both,
Which modern lamentation might have mov’d?
But with a rear-ward following Tybalt’s death,
‘Romeo is banished’—to speak that word
Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,
All slain, all dead. Romeo is banished,
There is no end, no limit, measure, bound,
In that word’s death, no words can that woe sound.
Where is my father and my mother, Nurse?

JULIET.
Wash they his wounds with tears. Mine shall be spent,
When theirs are dry, for Romeo’s banishment.
Take up those cords. Poor ropes, you are beguil’d,
Both you and I; for Romeo is exil’d.
He made you for a highway to my bed,
But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed.
Come cords, come Nurse, I’ll to my wedding bed,
And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead.

JULIET.
O find him, give this ring to my true knight,
And bid him come to take his last farewell.

ROMEO.
Father, what news? What is the Prince’s doom?
What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand,
That I yet know not?

JULIET.
Wash they his wounds with tears. Mine shall be spent,
When theirs are dry, for Romeo’s banishment.
Take up those cords. Poor ropes, you are beguil’d,
Both you and I; for Romeo is exil’d.
He made you for a highway to my bed,
But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed.
Come cords, come Nurse, I’ll to my wedding bed,
And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead.

JULIET.
O find him, give this ring to my true knight,
And bid him come to take his last farewell.

ROMEO.
Father, what news? What is the Prince’s doom?
What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand,
That I yet know not?

ROMEO.
I do remember well where I should be,
And there I am. Where is my Romeo?

JULIET.
O find him, give this ring to my true knight,
And bid him come to take his last farewell.

ROMEO.
Father, what news? What is the Prince’s doom?
What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand,
That I yet know not?

ROMEO.
I do remember well where I should be,
And there I am. Where is my Romeo?

JULIET.
And he’ll be new baptis’d—

JULIET.
And he’ll be new baptis’d—

ROMEO.
Amen, amen, but come what sorrow can,
It cannot countervail the exchange of joy
That one short minute gives me in her sight.

JULIET.
And he’ll be new baptis’d—

ROMEO.
Amen

# 14

JULIET.
Ay me.

ROMEO.
Can I go forward when she says Romeo will marry?

JULIET.
Ay me.

ROMEO.
Can I go forward when she says Romeo will marry?

JULIET.
No, madam. I have.

ROMEO.
And trust me, she says he will.
Said she not so? Then trust me, she says he will.
And trust me, she says he will.
She is too young for my eyesight, and too young for her will.
Back to school, you see, Nurse.

JULIET.
What storm is this that blows so contrary?
Is Romeo slaughter’d and is Tybalt dead?
My dearest cousin, and my dearer lord?
Then dreadful trumpet sound the general doom,
For who is living, if those two are gone?

JULIET.
O God! Did Romeo’s hand shed Tybalt’s blood?

ROMEO.
He did, and Tybalt’s death was foretold.
Was Romeo slain? No, but he’ll still be remembered.
Was Romeo slain even as Tybalt?
O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face,
Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?
Beautiful tyrant, fiend angelical,
Dove-feather’d raven, wolvish-ravening lamb!
Despised substance of divinest show!
Just opposite to what thou justly seem’st,
A damned saint, an honourable villain!
O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell
When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend
In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh?
Was ever book containing such vile matter
So fairly bound? O, that deceit should dwell
In such a gorgeous palace.

JULIET.
Blister’d be thy tongue
For such a wish! He was not born to shame.
Upon his brow shame is asham’d to sit;
For ’tis a throne where honour may be crown’d
Sole monarch of the universal earth.
O, what a beast was I to chide at him!

JULIET.
No, madam. I have.

ROMEO.
And trust me, she says he will.
Said she not so? Then trust me, she says he will.
She is too young for my eyesight, and too young for her will.
Back to school, you see, Nurse.

JULIET.
What storm is this that blows so contrary?
Is Romeo slaughter’d and is Tybalt dead?
My dearest cousin, and my dearer lord?
Then dreadful trumpet sound the general doom,
For who is living, if those two are gone?

JULIET.
O God! Did Romeo’s hand shed Tybalt’s blood?

ROMEO.
He did, and Tybalt’s death was foretold.
Was Romeo slain? No, but he’ll still be remembered.
Was Romeo slain even as Tybalt?
O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face,
Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?
Beautiful tyrant, fiend angelical,
Dove-feather’d raven, wolvish-ravening lamb! Despised substance of divinest show!
Just opposite to what thou justly seem’st,
A damned saint, an honourable villain!
O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell
When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend
In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh?
Was ever book containing such vile matter
So fairly bound? O, that deceit should dwell
In such a gorgeous palace.

JULIET.
Blister’d be thy tongue
For such a wish! He was not born to shame.
Upon his brow shame is asham’d to sit;
For ’tis a throne where honour may be crown’d
Sole monarch of the universal earth.
O, what a beast was I to chide at him!

JULIET.
Then you have no pity of your own,
Tybalt? Then you have no comfort, no help, no counsel, no help, no help, no help, no help, no help, no help, no help, no help, no help, no help, no help, no help, no help, no help, no help, no help, no help, no help, no

# 15

JULIET.
Do not interrupt.

ROMEO.
What if I interrupt before he says so?

JULIET.
—What if?

ROMEO.
Tell him, fellow, tell him.

JULIET.
I am sorry that you have hurt my hand. I have been ill for a long time.

ROMEO.
A gentleman, a man, I never met before;
My only joy comes from a mistress so fair and fair,
That loves me with all her might. Such is the beauty I love,
That makes me tremble to think of her again. I am envious
Of those that do not like me. Love is as sweet to men as is the air,
To love itself, is a joyful state. Beauty, then, is the centre of all that,
Being what one loves. Love, then, is a hateful hate
To all the forms of that nature. Love is like fire,
An inexorable enemy, bent on enmity; and
It is not for this reason that I love her. O, she’s too fair,
As too fair, too perverse, too perverse;
So I have despised her beauty all her days,
And found her heretics, damned sinners,
That by their love they showered with fire. O, be lenient, forbear,
Thou love’st me as a lightning,
Though from the bottom of my heart think’st me perverse. O, good Nurse, how I never dies
But with this love-devouring sheet. Love dies, O Romeo, the world
Lies with thee, the world without love;
The world without love is death. O that I may feel it
So, with that sound remonstrance
That one breathes in the air, another dies
At my abominable behests. O, be not perverse. Love dies with that word
A word that I bear, and with that word
A triumphant lamb, a blessing that is added to the world. O, I have
A right to that word. O that I may combine that
A word that I have
With that word
Belong’d to myself in dear friendship,
That may combine with another a torch
That I lighten the way to Mantua. O, my heart
Is so heavy that when I close that hand
A torch’d with a golden leaf, I cannot move.

JULIET.
O blessed be my hand, my true ally! O, what news?

ROMEO.
—What news? I am the dearer than you.

JULIET.
What news? What joy?
ROMEO.
What satisfaction can there be in a joyful exchange of greetings?

JULIET.
What satisfaction can there be in a joyful exchange of greetings?

ROMEO.
The world without hate, love, love of all that is love,
Is an outrage to himself, a lightning in a twinkle
That flies toward the east, toward the west,
Ne’er injures myself than by this encounter. O, say my attires,
The world without hate; and I’ll be happy
With that word too; for that word
Belong to me in dear friendship; and that word
Belong to another that is too fair,
And I’ll feel the bounty of love in the exchange.

ROMEO.
A thousand times good fortune, sweet Nurse, every day.

JULIET.
I pray thee, Mercutio, if this peace prevails,
Than none else can, save me, and all this shall depend on my conduct.
Farewell, peace.

ROMEO.
Not having supper tonight, shall I resign to my fate?

JULIET.
I have.

ROMEO.
Farewell.

ROMEO.
God knows how I must die.

JULIET.
Amen.