i bade her come. god forbid! where's this girl? juliet!
thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er i nursed.
a man, young lady! lady, such a
nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower.
go girl, seek happy nights to happy days.
juliet, your mother calls.
madam, your mother craves a word with you.
come, let's away.
his name is romeo, and a montague, the only son of your great enemy.
i desire some confidence with you.
if ye should lead her in a fool's paradise, as they say, it were a very gross kind of behavior, as they say. for the gentlewoman is young; and therefore, if you should deal double with her, truly it were an ill thing and very weak dealing.
i am aweary, give me leave awhile. fie, how my bones ache. what a jaunce have i.
jesu, what haste. can you not stay awhile? can you not see i am out of breath?
well, you have made a simple choice. you know not how to choose a man. romeo? no, not he. though 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's 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?
lord how my head aches! what a head have i: my back -
o' t'other side - ah, my back! beshrew your heart for sending me
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?
o god's lady dear are you so hot? henceforth do your messages yourself.
have you got leave to go to confession today?
then hie you hence to father laurence cell. there stays a husband to make you a wife!
it did, it did! alas the day, it did!
there's no trust, no faith, no honesty in men. all perjured, all forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers. shame come to romeo.
will you speak well of him that killed your cousin?
hie to your chamber. i'll find
ah sir! ah sir! death's the end of all.
o, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps, and then on romeo cries, and then falls down again.
here sir, a ring my lady bid me give you.
god in heaven bless her! you are to blame, my lord, to rate her so.
faith, here it is. i think it best you married with this paris. o, he's a lovely gentleman! i think you are happy in this second match, for it excels your first; or if it did not, your first is dead - or 'twere as good he were as living here and you no use of him.
and from my soul too. else beshrew them both.
this is wisely done.
why bride?