What art thou hurt? I, I, a scratch, a scratch, marry 'tis inough,. Courage man, the hurt cannot be much. Helpe me into some house Benuolio ,.
With Tibalts slaunder, Tybalt that an houre. O Romeo, Romeo , braue Mercutio's is dead,. Here comes the Furious Tybalt backe againe. He gon in triumph, and Mercutio slaine?
Thou wretched Boy that didst consort him here,. This shall determine that. Romeo , away be gone:. I am Fortunes foole. Why dost thou stay?
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There lies that Tybalt. Vp sir go with me:. Enter Prince, old Montague, Capulet, their Wiues and all. O Noble Prince, I can discouer all. O my Brothers Child,. Tybalt here slaine, whom Romeo's hand slay,. Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio ,. Not Romeo Prince, he was Mercutios Friend,. And for that offence,. I haue an interest in [. Gallop apace, you fiery footed fteedes steedes ,. I, I, the Cords. Ay me, what newes? A welady, hee's dead, hee's dead,.
Can heauen be so enuious? What diuell art thou,. I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes,. O breake my heart,. O Tybalt , Tybalt , the best Friend I had:. What storme is this that blowes so contrarie? Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished,. O Serpent heart, hid with a flowring face. Did euer Dragon keepe so faire a Caue?
Will you speake well of him,. Shall I speake ill of him that is my husband? Weeping and wailing ouer Tybalts Coarse,. Wash they his wounds with tears: Hie to your Chamber, Ile find Romeo. O find him, giue this Ring to my true Knight,. What lesse then Doomesday,. A gentler iudgement vanisht from his lips,. Here from Verona art thou banished:. O deadly sin, O rude vnthankefulnesse! Then fond Mad man, heare me speake. Ile giue thee Armour to keepe off that word,.
O then I see, that Mad men haue no eares. Let me dispaire with thee of thy estate,. Thou can'st not speake of that y u dost not feele,. Let me come in,. O holy Frier, O tell me holy Frier,. There on the ground,. Ah sir, ah sir, deaths the end of all. Speak'st thou of Iuliet? And Tybalt calls, and then on Romeo cries,. As if that name shot from the dead leuell of a Gun,. O Lord, I could haue staid here all night,.
Do so, and bid my Sweete prepare to chide. How well my comfort is reuiu'd by this. But that a ioy past ioy, calls out on me,. Things haue falne out sir so vnluckily,. These times of wo, affoord no times to wooe:. I will, and know her mind early to morrow,. Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet neere day:. It was the Larke the Herauld of the Morne:. Yond light is not daylight, I know it I:. Let me be tane, let me be put to death,.
It is, it is, hie hence be gone away:. Your Lady Mother is comming to your chamber,. Then window let day in, and let life out. Farewell, farewell, one kisse and Ile descend.
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Art thou gone so? Loue, Lord, ay Husband, Friend,. O thinkest thou we shall euer meet againe? I doubt it not, and all these woes shall serue. I haue an ill Diuining soule,. And trust me Loue, in my eye so do you:. Who ist that calls? Is it my Lady Mother. Why how now Iuliet? Euermore weeping for your Cozins death?
Yet let me weepe, for such a feeling losse. So shall you feele the losse, but not the Friend. Feeling so the losse,. Well Girle, thou weep'st not so much for his death,. That same Villaine Romeo.
That is because the Traitor liues. I Madam from the reach of these my hands:. We will haue vengeance for it, feare thou not. Indeed I neuer shall be satisfied. Find thou the meanes, and Ile find such a man. And ioy comes well, in such a needy time,. Well, well, thou hast a carefull Father Child? Marry my Child, early next Thursday morne,. Here comes your Father, tell him so your selfe,. Soft, take me with you, take me with you wife,. Not proud you haue,. Fie, fie, what are you mad? Hang thee young baggage, disobedient wretch,. God in heauen blesse her,. And why my Lady wisedome?
Peace you mumbling foole,. You are too hot. Gods bread, it makes me mad:. Is there no pittie sitting in the Cloudes,. Talke not to me, for Ile not speake a word,. Faith here it is,.
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And from my soule too,. Marrie I will, and this is wisely done. My Father Capulet will haue it so,. You say you do not know the Ladies mind? Immoderately she weepes for Tybalts death,. I would I knew not why it should be slow'd. That may be sir, when I may be a wife. That may be, must be Loue, on Thursday next.
What must be shall be. That's a certaine text. To answere that, I should confesse to you. Do not denie to him, that you Loue me. I will confesse to you that I Loue him. So will ye, I am sure that you Loue me. Poore soule, thy face is much abus'd with teares. The teares haue got small victorie by that:. That is no slaunder sir, which is a truth,. Thy face is mine, and thou hast slaundred it.
It may be so, for it is not mine owne. My leisure serues me pensiue daughter now. I should disturbe Deuotion,. O shut the doore, and when thou hast done so,. O Iuliet , I alreadie know thy griefe,. Tell me not Frier that thou hearest of this,. Therefore out of thy long expetien'st experien'st time,. Hold Daughter, I doe spie a kind of hope,. Giue me, giue me, O tell me not of care. Loue giue me strength,. So many guests inuite as here are writ,. Well he may chance to do some good on her,. See where she comes from shrift. How now my headstrong,. Where I haue learnt me to repent the sin.
Send for the Countie, goe tell him of this,. I met the youthfull Lord at Lawrence Cell,. Why I am glad on't, this is well, stand vp,. Nurse will you goe with me into my Closet,. No not till Thursday, there's time inough. Go Nurse, go with her,. Tush, I will stirre about,. I those attires are best, but gentle Nurse. What are you busie ho? No Madam, we haue cul'd such necessaries.
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They call for Dates and Quinces in the Pastrie. Come, stir stir stir,. No not a whit: I haue watcht ere now. Enter three or foure with spits, and logs, and baskets. Things for the Cooke sir, but I know not what. Make hast, make hast, sirrah, fetch drier Logs. Masse and well said, a merrie horson, ha,. Fast I warrant her she.
What noise is heere? What is the matter? O me, O me, my Child, my onely life:. For shame bring Iuliet forth, her Lord is come. Alacke the day, shee's dead, shee's dead, shee's dead. Let me see her: Death that hath tane her hence to make me waile,. Come, is the Bride ready to go to Church? Ready to go, but neuer to returne. Haue I thought long to see this mornings face,. Accur'st, vnhappie, wretched hatefull day. O wo, O wofull, wofull, wofull day. Beguild, diuorced, wronged, spighted, slaine,. Despis'd, distressed, hated, martir'd, kil'd,.
Peace ho for shame, confusions: All things that we ordained Festiuall,. Sir go you in; and Madam, go with him,. Faith we may put vp our Pipes and be gone. Ah put vp, put vp,. Please enter the message. Please verify that you are not a robot. Would you also like to submit a review for this item? You already recently rated this item. Your rating has been recorded. Write a review Rate this item: Preview this item Preview this item. French View all editions and formats Rating: Allow this favorite library to be seen by others Keep this favorite library private.
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