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Chapter 3
"I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire. The day is hot, the Capulets abroad, and, if we meet, we shall not escape a brawl. For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring." Benvolio said as he swept his black hair from his face.
"Thou art like one of those 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 it on the drawer, when indeed there is no need." Mercutio said before dipping his head into a horse's trough and flipped it back.
"Am I like such a fellow?"
"Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in Italy, and as soon moved to be moody, and as soon moody to be moved."
"And what to?"
"Nay, an there were two such, we should have none shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why, thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more, or a hair less, in his beard, than thou hast. Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes. What eye but such an eye would spy out such a quarrel? Thy head is as fun of quarrels as an egg is full of meat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg for quarreling. Thou hast quarreled with a man for coughing in the street, because he hath wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun. Didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet before Easter? With another, for tying his new shoes with old riband? and yet thou wilt tutor me from quarreling!" His fingers combed through his sandy blonde hair as his blue eyes watched his friend.
"An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man should buy the fee- simple of my life for an hour and a quarter."
"The fee-simple! O simple!"
"By my head, here come the Capulets!" Benvolio said, irritated.
"By my heel," Mercutio laughed, "I care not."
Tybalt and some of his men walked over to them.
He whispered to one of them, "Follow me close, for I will speak to them." Then he looked toward Benvolio and Mercutio along with some of the Montague men. "Gentlemen, good den, a word with one of you."
"And but one word with one of us? Couple it with something; make it a word and a blow." Mercutio said, mocking Tybalt.
Tybalt's black eyes narrowed, "You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you will give me occasion."
"Could you not take some occasion without giving?"
"Mercutio, thou consortest with Romeo,--"
"Consort! what, dost thou make us minstrels? An thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords. Here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall make you dance. 'Zounds, consort!"
Benvolio began to try to calm down both tempers, "We talk here in the public haunt of men. Either withdraw unto some private place, and reason coldly of your grievances, or else depart. Here all eyes gaze on us."
"Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze. I will not budge for no man's pleasure." Mercutio said, his upper lip curling and nostrils flaring.
Romeo came walking up to them, not noticing everyone that was there.
Tybalt smirked and said to Mercutio, "Well, peace be with you, sir: here comes my man."
"But I'll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery. Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower. Your worship in that sense may call him 'man.'" Mercutio said and backed down.
"Romeo, the hate I bear thee can afford no better term than this,-- thou art a villain." Tybalt said, venom laced each sound that he uttered.
Romeo stopped, noticing everyone for the first time. He looked at Tybalt with pity. "Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee doth much excuse the appertaining rage to such a greeting. Villain am I none. Therefore farewell. I see thou knowest me not." He said, and turned to leave.
"Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries that thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw." Tybalt said, enraged that Romeo was not so easily riled up.
"I do protest, I never injured thee, but love thee better than thou canst devise, till thou shalt know the reason of my love. And so, good Capulet,--which name I tender as dearly as my own,--be satisfied." Romeo said, trying to stop Tybalt before anything started.
"O calm, dishonorable, vile submission! Alla stoccata carries it away." Mercutio said, stepping in front of Romeo and drawing his rapier. "Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?"
"What wouldst thou have with me?" Tybalt said, not sure what Mercutio was doing.
"Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine lives. That I mean to make bold withal, and as you shall use me hereafter, drybeat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pitcher by the ears? Make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out."
Tybalt glared and drew his own weapon. "I am for you." He said deeply.
"Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up." Romeo said, trying to stop them
Olivia, Helena, and Hero, who had been following Romeo for the past three hours since he was married, looked at each other.
"This is bad. This is very bad." Helena said.
Hero narrowed her cinnamon eyes, "Helena, go get your cousin, the Prince. Olivia and I shall deal with this."
The other two girls looked at her.
Helena nodded gravely and began to run like some pursued thief towards the Prince's home.
Olivia looked at her and instantly felt Hero's anger. She squared her shoulders and they stepped out of the cool shadows.
Mercutio looked at Tybalt with an eagerness to fight, "Come, sir, your passado." He said and began to swing his weapon towards the Capulet.
"Draw, Benvolio. Beat down their weapons. Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage! Tybalt, Mercutio, the prince expressly hath forbidden bandying in Verona streets. Hold, Tybalt! good Mercutio!" Romeo called, but was ignored.
Olivia and Hero broke out into a full run. Hero grabbed Tybalt's arm and began to pull him back, while Olivia pulled Mercutio's arm. They allowed enough room for Romeo to get in-between them and hold them apart.
"Let go of me boy!" Tybalt shouted, sending the boy-clad girl down to the ground.
Her cap fell off and sent a raven colored shock spewed forth.
"Let go of my arm!" Mercutio said in a serious voice that made Olivia's hands falter. He wrenched free from her grasp, making her fall and sent her cap flying. Her bright blonde hair stood out against the greyness of stone.
Mercutio leaned forward as he got free from her grasp as did Tybalt, who's sword was still drawn.
His sword stuck something. He looked up to see Mercutio's eyes wide with horror. Tybalt withdrew his sword.
Olivia's blue eyes were wide with horror. "I will get the a surgeon." She whispered so that only Mercutio could hear. She got up and ran towards the Houses of Healing.
"I am hurt. A plague o' both your houses! I am sped."
"What? Art thou hurt?" Benvolio asked, concern written over his face.
"Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch. Marry, 'tis enough." He said and started after to where Olivia had run off to.
Romeo looked at his friend and whispered, "Courage man. The hurt cannot be much."
"No, tis not as deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door, but 'tis enough and 'twill serve. Ask for me tomorrow and you shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague on both your houses! 'Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a cat, to scratch a man to death! A braggart, a rouge, a villain, that fights by the book of arithmetic!" He pulled Romeo up towards where he was walking and whispered, "Why the devil came you three between us? I was hurt under your arm."
"I thought all for the best." He said, seeing that they had stopped near the Houses of Healing.
"Help me into this house, Benvolio, or I shall faint. A plague on both you houses. They have made worms' meat of me. I have it, and soundly too. Your houses!" He said, crashing into the door which had stood ajar.
Benvolio went up to him and placed his fingers where his pulse was.
"This gentleman, the prince's near ally, ,y very friend, hath got his mortal hurt in my behalf. My reputation stained with Tybalt's slander,-- Tybalt, that an hour hath been my kinsman! O sweet Juliet, thy beauty hath made me effeminate and in my temper softened valor's steel!" Romeo whispered.
Only Hero heard him, she was standing next to him.
Benvolio looked up from Mercutio, "O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead! That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds, which too untimely here did scorn the earth."
Romeo looked at him, happiness and gentleness faded from his eyes. "This day's black fate on more days doth depend. This but begins the woe, others must end."
"Here comes the furious Tybalt back again."
"Alive, in triumph! And Mercutio slain! Away to heaven, respective lenity, and fire-eyed fury be my conduct now!"
Everyone turned and went to meet Tybalt. Hero stayed behind and went to Mercutio's body that Olivia was now leaning over.
"Is he dead?"
"I can find no pulse from his heart, but I can feel his warm breath. His pulse must be shallow."
"Come, bring him to a bed and be quick!" The head of the healers said. Others were scurrying about, getting herbs and water ready for Mercutio's mending.
"I shall see you later. I must stop Romeo and Tybalt's fight." Hero said, and ran after the group.
"Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again, that late thou gavest me; for Mercutio's soul is but a little way above our heads, staying for thine to keep him company. Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him." Romeo said, his rapier drawn. He was circling Tybalt like a hawk circle's his prey.
"Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him here, shalt with him hence." Tybalt said and began to fight with Romeo.
"This shall determine that" Romeo said, fighting back.
Hero pushed them both away from each other. "Hold! I charge thee hold! One man hath died already!"
Tybalt grabbed the "boy's" arm and threw him on the ground. "I have told thou once already! Stay back insolent child!"
Hero hit the ground hard, feeling the bond in her wrist break.
"This shall teach thee!" He said, and sliced deeply into her left shoulder.
While he as "teaching" Hero a lesson, Romeo had come up behind him.
"Tybalt!" He shouted, making the other man turn around.
Romeo ran him through with the blade.
Tybalt dropped to his knees and then onto his face. He was dead.
"Romeo, away, be gone! The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain. Stand not amazed. The prince will doom thee death, if thou art taken: hence, be gone, away!" Benvolio cried out.
"O, I am fortune's fool!"
"Why dost thou stay?"
Romeo looked at him for a minute and then took off running.
"Which way ran he that killed Mercutio? Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he?" One citizen asked. News had traveled fast of Mercutio's death, though not that it was a mistake.
"There lies that Tybalt." Benvolio said.
"Up, sir, go with me. I charge thee in the princes name, obey."
The prince came in with Helena, the Montagues, the Capulets, and some odd attendants.
"Where are the vile beginners of this fray?" The prince asked.
"O noble prince, I can discover all. The unlucky manage of the fatal brawl. There lies the man slain by young Romeo, that slew thy kinsman, the brave Mercutio."
"Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child! O prince! O cousin! husband! O, the blood is spilt O my dear kinsman! Prince, as thou art true, for blood of ours, shed blood of Montague. O cousin, cousin!" Lady Capulet cried out and screeched.
"Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?" The Prince asked.
"Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay. Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him be think how nice the quarrel was, and urged withal your high displeasure. All this uttered with gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bowed could not take truce with the unruly spleen of Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tilts with piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast who all as hot turns deadly point to point, and with martial scorn with one hand beats cold death aside, and with the other sends back to Tybalt, whose dexterity retorts it. Romeo cries aloud, 'Hold friends! Friends part!' and swifter than his tongue, his agile arm beats down their fatal points, and 'twixt them rushes. Underneath whose arm an envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled. But by and by comes back to Romeo, who had but newly entertained revenge, and to 't they go like lightning, for, ere I could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain. And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly. This is the truth, or let Benvolio die."
Lady Capulet cried out in rage, "He is a kinsman to the Montague. Affection makes him false. He speaks not true. Some twenty of them fought in this black strife, and all those twenty could but kill one life. I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give. Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live."
"Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio. Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?"
"Not Romeo, Prince, he was Mercutio's friend. His fault concludes but what the law should end the life of Tybalt." Lord Montague said, backing his son.
"And for that offence immediately we do exile him hence. I have an interst in your hate's proceeding, my blood for your rude brawls doth lie a- bleeding. But I'll amerce you with so strong a fine That you shall all repent the loss of mine. I will be deaf to pleading and excuses. Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses. Therefore use none: let Romeo hence in haste, else, when he's found, that hour is his last. Bear hence this body and attend our will. Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill."
The Prince walked over to where he had left Helena. She stood sobbing in the arms of Hero. He touched her shoulder and opened his arms to her crying.
Helena went to her cousin's arms and cried harder.
Hero looked at the girl and sighed. "Sweet Helena do not cry. Come to the Houses of Healing after the crowd had disappeared. The elder will be waiting on you. Olivia and I will be taking care of Romeo and Juliet. Do not cry gentle coz." Hero whispered and then stole off into the shadows.
Hero entered the Houses of Healing with little strength.
Olivia caught her as she fell into the room where Mercutio lay.
"Good Lord, Hero, what has happened."
"I pulled Romeo and Tybalt apart. Tybalt got angry and threw me to the ground, breaking my wrist. He took his rapier and sliced my shoulder. Help me. Take me to the elder."
Olivia called forth one of the healers.
"Olivia, watch over Juliet. Tybalt was slain by Romeo and the prince has banished Romeo."
Olivia nodded her head gravely. When the healer took Hero from her arms, she left the houses. She left to go and find out what was happening with Juliet as well as Romeo.
"Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, towards Phoebus' lodging: such a wagoner as Phaethon would whip you to the west, and bring in cloudy night immediately. Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night, that runaway's eyes may wink and Romeo leap to these arms, untalked of and unseen. Lovers can see to do their amorous rites by their own beauties, or, if love be blind, it best agrees with night. Come, civil night, thou sober- suited matron, all in black, and learn me how to lose a winning match, Played for a pair of stainless maidenhoods. Hood my unmanned blood, bating in my cheeks, with thy black mantle; till strange love, grown bold, think true love acted simple modesty. Come, night; come, Romeo. Come, thou day in night. For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night whiter than new snow on a raven's back. Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-browed night, give me my Romeo, and, when he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars, and he will make the face of heaven so fine that all the world will be in love with night and pay no worship to the garish sun. O, I have bought the mansion of a love, but not possessed it, and, though I am sold, not yet enjoyed. So tedious is this day as is the night before some festival to an impatient child that hath new robes and may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse, and she brings news. And every tongue that speaks but Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence." Juliet said as she sat at her window.
The nurse walked into the room with the cords that Romeo had told her to get.
"Nurse, what news? What hast thou there? The cords that Romeo bid thee fetch?"
"Ay, ay, the cords." She said and threw them down.
"Ay me! what news? why dost thou wring thy hands?"
"Ah, well-a-day! he's dead, he's dead, he's dead! We are undone, lady, we are undone! Alack the day! he's gone, he's killed, he's dead!"
"Can heaven be so envious?"
"Romeo can, though heaven cannot. O Romeo, Romeo! Who ever would have thought it? Romeo!"
"What devil art thou, that dost torment me thus? This torture should be roared in dismal hell. Hath Romeo slain himself? Say thou but 'I,' And that bare vowel 'I' shall poison more than the death-darting eye of cockatrice. I am not I, if there be such an I. Or those eyes shut, that make thee answer 'I.' If he be slain, say 'I'; or if not, no. Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe."
"I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes,– God save the mark!--here on his manly breast. A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse. Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaubed in blood, all in gore-blood. I swooned at the sight."
"O, break, my heart! poor bankrupt, break at once! To prison, eyes, ne'er look on liberty! Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here. And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier!"
"O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had! O courteous Tybalt! Honest gentleman! That ever I should live to see thee dead!"
"What storm is this that blows so contrary? Is Romeo slaughtered, and is Tybalt dead? My dear-loved cousin, and my dearer lord? Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom! For who is living, if those two are gone?"
"Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished. Romeo that killed him, he is banished."
"O God! did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood?"
"It did, it did. Alas the day, it did!"
"O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face! Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave? Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical! Dove-feathered raven! wolvish-ravening lamb! Despised substance of divinest show! Just opposite to what thou justly seemest, a damned saint, an honorable villain! O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell, when thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend in moral 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!"
"There's no trust, no faith, no honesty in men; all perjured, all forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers. Ah, where's my man? Give me some aqua vitae. These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old. Shame come to Romeo!"
"Blister'd be thy tongue for such a wish! He was not born to shame. Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit. For 'tis a throne where honour may be crowned sole monarch of the universal earth. O, what a beast was I to chide at him!"
"Will you speak well of him that killed your cousin?"
"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 murdered 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 lamentations might have moved? 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?"
"Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corse. Will you go to them? I will bring you thither."
"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 beguiled, both you and I, for Romeo is exiled. 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!"
"Hie to your chamber. I'll find Romeo to comfort you. I wot well where he is. Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night. I'll to him. He is hid at Laurence' cell."
"O, find him! give this ring to my true knight, and bid him come to take his last farewell."
"Romeo, come forth, come forth, thou fearful man. Affliction is enamoured of thy parts, and thou art wedded to calamity."
Romeo entered at the Friar's words.
"Father, what news? What is the prince's doom? What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand, that I yet know not?"
"Too familiar is my dear son with such sour company. I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom."
"What less than dooms-day is the prince's doom?"
"A gentler judgment vanished from his lips. No body's death, but body's banishment."
"Ha banishment! Be merciful, say 'death.' For exile hath more terror in his look, much more than death. Do not say 'banishment.'"
"Hence from Verona art thou banished. Be patient, for the world is broad and wide."
"There is no world without Verona walls, but purgatory, torture, Hell itself. Hence-banished is banished from the world, and world's exile is death. Then banished is death mis-termed, calling death banishment, thou cuttest my head off with a golden axe and smilest upon the stroke that murders me."
"O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness! Thy fault our law calls death, but the kind prince taking thy part hath rushed aside the law, and turned that black word death to banishment. This is dear mercy and thou seest it not."
"'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here, wher Juliet lives and every cat and dog and litle mouse, every unworthy thing live here in heaven and may look on her; but Romeo may not: more validity, more honourable state, more courtship lives in carrion-flies than Romeo. They my seize on the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand and steal immortal blessing from her lips, who even in pure and vestal modesty, still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin. But Romeo may not. He is banished. Flies may do this, but I from this must fly. They are free men, but I am banished. And sayest thou yet that exile is not death? Hadst thou no poison mixed, no sharp-ground knife, no sudden mean of death, though never so mean, but 'banished' to kill me?--'banished'? O friar, the damned use that word in hell. Howlings attend it, how hast thou the heart, being a divine, a ghostly confessor, a sin-absolver, and my friend professed, to mangle me with that word 'banished'?"
"Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak a word."
"O thou wilt speak again of banishment."
"I'll give thee armor to keep off that word. Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy, to comfort thee, though banished."
"Yet 'banished'? Hang up philosophy! Unless philosophy can make a Juliet, displant a town, reverse a prince's doom, it helps not, it prevails not: talk no more."
"O, then I see that madmen have no ears."
"How should they, when that wise men have no eyes?"
"Let me dispute with thee of thy estate."
"Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel. Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love, an hour but married, Tybalt murdered, doting like me and like me banished, then mightest thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair, and fall upon the ground, as I do now, Taking the measure of an unmade grave."
A knock came from the door.
"Arise! One knocks. Good Romeo, hide thyself."
"Not I. Unless the breath of heartsick groans, mist-like, infold me from the search of eyes."
The knock became more urgent.
"Hark, how they knock! Who's there? Romeo, arise! Thou wilt be taken. Stay awhile! Stand up."
Again the knocking became more urgent and louder.
"Run to my study. By and by! God's will, what simpleness is this! I come, I come!" He said as he went to the door and asked, "Who knocks so hard? Whence come you? What's your will?"
The nurse said loud enough that he could hear through the door, "Let me come in, and you shall know my errand. I come from Lady Juliet."
"Welcome then," He said, opening the door.
"O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar, where is my lady's lord? Where is Romeo?"
"There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk." Friar Laurence said, pointing to a heap on the floor.
"O, he is even in my mistress' case. Just in her case! O woeful sympathy! Piteous predicament! Even so lies she, blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering. Stand up, stand up. Stand and you be a man. For Juliet's sake. For her sake, rise and stand. Why should you fall into so deep an O?"
"Nurse!"
"Ah sir! Ah sir! Well, death's the end of all."
"Spakest thou of Juliet? How is it with her? Doth she not think me and old murderer, now that I have stained the childhood of our joy with blood removed but little from her own? Where is she and how doth she? And what says my concealed lady to our cancelled love?"
"O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps. And now falls on her bed, and then starts up, and Tybalt calls. And then on Romeo cries, and then down falls again."
"As if that name, shot from the deadly level of a gun, did murder her as that name's cursed hand murdered her kinsman. O, tell me, friar, tell me, in what vile part of this anatomy doth my name lodge? Tell me, that I may sack the hateful mansion." Romeo shouted angrily, and drew his sword.
"Hold thy desperate hand. Art thou a man? Thy form cries out thou art. Thy tears are womanish. Thy wild acts denote the unreasonable fury of a beast. Unseemly woman in a seeming man! Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both! Thou hast amazed me, by my holy order, I thought thy disposition better tempered. Hast thou slain Tybalt? Wilt thou slay thyself? And stay thy lady too that lives in thee, by doing damned hate upon thyself? Why railest thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth? Since birth, and heaven, and earth, all three do meet in thee at once, which thou at once wouldst lose. Fie, fie, thou shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit. Which, like a usurer, abound'st in all, and usest none in that true use indeed Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit. Thy noble shape is but a form of wax, digressing from the valour of a man. Thy dear love sworn but hollow perjury, killing that love which thou hast vowed to cherish. Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love, mis-shapen in the conduct of them both, like powder in a skitless soldier's flask, is set afire by thine own ignorance, and thou dismember'd with thine own defense. What, rouse thee, man! Thy Juliet is alive, for whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead. There art thou happy, Tybalt would kill thee, but thou slewest Tybalt. There are thou happy too. The law that threatened death becomes thy friend and turns it to exile. There art thou happy. A pack of blessings lights up upon thy back. Happiness courts thee in her best array, but, like a misbehaved and sullen wench, thou poutest upon thy fortune and thy love. Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable. Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed, ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her. But look thou stay not till the watch be set, for then thou canst not pass to Mantua where thou shalt live, till we can find a time to blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends, beg pardon of the prince, and call thee back with twenty hundred thousand times more joy than thou wentest forth in lamentation. Go before, nurse. Commend me to thy lady, and bid her hasten all the house to bed. Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto. Romeo is coming."
"O Lord, I could have stayed here all the night to hear good counsel. O, what learning is! My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come."
"Do so and bid my sweet prepare to chide."
"Here, sir, a ring she bid me give you, sir. Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late." She said and left to tell Juliet.
"How well my comfort is revived by this!"
"Go hence; good night, and here stands all your state. Either be gone before the watch be set, or by the break of day disguised from hence. Sojourn in Mantua. I'll find out your man, and he shall signify from time to time every good hap to you that chances here. Give me thy hand, 'tis late. Farewell. Good night."
"But that a joy past joy calls out on me, It were a grief, so brief to part with thee. Farewell."
Lord and Lady Capulet sat in Lord Capulet's private study. Count Paris sat in front of them.
"Things have fallen out, sir, so unluckily, that we have had no time to move our daughter. Look you, she loved her kinsman Tybalt dearly, and so did I:--Well, we were born to die. 'Tis very late, she'll not come down to- night. I promise you, but for your company, I would have been a-bed an hour ago."
Paris looked at him with pity. "These times of woe afford no time to woo. Madam, good night: commend me to your daughter."
Lady Capulet sent him a teary smile. "I will, and know her mind early to-morrow; To-night she is mewed up to her heaviness."
"Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender of my child's love. I think she will be ruled in all respects by me. Nay, more, I doubt it not. Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed, acquaint her here of my son Paris' love. And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next– But, soft! what day is this?"
"Monday, my lord," Paris said.
"Monday! ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon, O' Thursday let it be: o' Thursday, tell her, she shall be married to this noble earl. Will you be ready? Do you like this haste? We'll keep no great ado,--a friend or two. For, hark you, Tybalt being slain so late, It may be thought we held him carelessly, being our kinsman, if we revel much. Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends, and there an end. But what say you to Thursday?"
"My lord, I would that Thursday were to-morrow."
"Well get you gone, o' Thursday be it, then. Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed, prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day. Farewell, my lord. Light to my chamber, ho! Afore me! it is so very very late, That we may call it early by and by. Good night."
Olivia, who had been setting in the giant tree that was in-between Lord Capulet's private study and Juliet's room, stared at the study window in shock. She had to tell the others.
As she snuck out, she saw Romeo sneak in.
"Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day. It was the nightingale, and not the lark, that pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear. Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree, believe me, love, it was the nightingale." Juliet said, scooting closer to the warm place that he had left.
Romeo fastened his hilt onto his belt. "It was the lark, the herald of the morn, no nightingale. Look, love, what envious streaks do lace the severing clouds in yonder east. Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops. I must be gone and live, or stay and die."
"Yon light is not day-light, I know it, I. It is some meteor that the sun exhales, to be to thee this night a torch-bearer, and light thee on thy way to Mantua. Therefore stay yet, thou needest not to be gone."
"Let me be taken, let me be put to death. I am content, so thou wilt have it so. I'll say yon grey is not the morning's eye, 'tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow, nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat the vaulty heaven so high above our heads. I have more care to stay than will to go. Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so. How is't, my soul? let's talk; it is not day."
"It is, it is. Hie hence, be gone, away! It is the lark that sings so out of tune, straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps. Some say the lark makes sweet division. This doth not so, for she divideth us. Some say the lark and loathed toad change eyes, O, now I would they had changed voices too! Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray, hunting thee hence with hunt's-up to the day, O, now be gone. more light and light it grows."
"More light and light; more dark and dark our woes!" He said, taking her into his arms and kissing her.
Without warning, the nurse walked into the chamber. "Madam!" She said, signifying that she was there.
"Nurse?" Juliet asked in a daze.
"Your lady mother is coming to your chamber. The day is broke, be wary, look about." She said and left.
Juliet's eyes were wide in horror. She ran to the window and tore it open. "Then, window, let day in, and let life out."
"Farewell, farewell! One kiss, and I'll descend." Romeo said, climbing down, but first kissing her once more.
"Art thou gone so? Love, lord, ay, husband, friend! I must hear from thee every day in the hour, for in a minute there are many days. O, by this count I shall be much in years ere I again behold my Romeo!"
"Farewell! I will omit no opportunity that may convey my greetings, love, to thee."
"O, thinkest thou we shall ever meet again?"
"I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve for sweet discourses in our time to come."
"O God, I have an ill-divining soul! Methinks I see thee, now thou art below, As one dead in the bottom of a tomb. Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale."
"And trust me, love, in my eye so do you. Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu!"
He said, and finally left.
"O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle. If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him. That is renowned for faith? Be fickle, fortune. For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long, but send him back.."
Lady Capulet walked into her daughter's room and called out, "Ho, daughter! are you up?"
"Who is't that calls? is it my lady mother? Is she not down so late, or up so early? What unaccustomed cause procures her hither?" Asked Juliet as she entered her room.
"Why, how now, Juliet!"
"Madam, I am not well."
"Evermore weeping for your cousin's death? What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears? An if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live. Therefore, have done, some grief shows much of love. But much of grief shows still some want of wit."
"Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss."
"So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend which you weep for."
"Feeling so the loss, cannot choose but ever weep the friend."
"Well, girl, thou weepest not so much for his death, as that the villain lives which slaughtered him."
"What villain madam?"
"That same villain, Romeo."
Juliet thought to herself, "Villain and he be many miles asunder.– God Pardon him! I do, with all my heart." Then she said aloud, "No man like he doth grieve my heart."
"That is, because the traitor murderer lives."
"Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands. Would none but I might venge my cousin's death!"
"We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not. Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua, where that same banished runagate doth live, Shall give him such an unaccustomed dram, that he shall soon keep Tybalt company. And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied. "
"Indeed, I never shall be satisfied with Romeo, till I behold him-- dead--Is my poor heart for a kinsman vexed. Madam, if you could find out but a man to bear a poison, I would temper it. That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof, Soon sleep in quiet. O, how my heart abhors to hear him named, and cannot come to him. To wreak the love I bore my cousin upon his body that slaughtered him!"
"Find thou the means, and I'll find such a man. But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl."
"And joy comes well in such a needy time. What are they, I beseech your ladyship?"
"Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child. One who, to put thee from thy heaviness, hath sorted out a sudden day of joy, that thou expectest not nor I looked not for."
"Madam, in happy time, what day is that?"
"Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn, the gallant, young and noble gentleman, the County Paris, at Saint Peter's Church, shall happily make thee there a joyful bride."
"Now, by Saint Peter's Church and Peter too, he shall not make me there a joyful bride. I wonder at this haste, that I must wed ere he, that should be husband, comes to woo. I pray you, tell my lord and father, madam, I will not marry yet, and, when I do, I swear, It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate, rather than Paris. These are news indeed!"
"Here comes your father; tell him so yourself, and see how he will take it at your hands." Hre mother said coldly.
Lord Capulet entered Juliet's room in a somewhat joyful mood. "When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle dew; but for the sunset of my brother's son it rains downright. How now! a conduit, girl? What, still in tears? Evermore showering? In one little body thou counterfeitest a bark, a sea, a wind. For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea, do ebb and flow with tears, the bark thy body is, sailing in this salt flood. The winds, thy sighs. Who, raging with thy tears, and they with them, without a sudden calm, will overset Thy tempest-tossed body. How now, wife! Have you delivered to her our decree?"
"Ay, sir; but she will none, she gives you thanks. I would the fool were married to her grave!"
"Soft! take me with you, take me with you, wife. How! Will she none? Doth she not give us thanks? Is she not proud? Doth she not count her blest, unworthy as she is, that we have wrought so worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom?" Lord Capulet shouted, his temper rivaling the Prince's.
"Not proud, you have, but thankful, that you have. Proud can I never be of what I hate, but thankful even for hate, that is meant love." Juliet said in cool defiance.
"How now, how now, chop-logic! What is this? 'Proud,' and 'I thank you,' and 'I thank you not;' And yet 'not proud,' mistress minion, you, thank me no thankings, nor, proud me no prouds, but fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next, to go with Paris to Saint Peter's Church, or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither. Out, you green-sickness carrion! out, you baggage! You tallow-face!"
"Fie, fie! what, are you mad?" Lady Capulet said, frightened for her daughter.
Juliet knelt down on her knees, for she knew she had said the wrong thing to her father. "Good father, I beseech you on my knees, hear me with patience but to speak a word." She said, pleadingly.
"Hang thee, young baggage! Disobedient wretch! I tell thee what: get thee to church o' Thursday, Or never after look me in the face. Speak not, reply not, do not answer me. My fingers itch. Wife, we scarce thought us blest that God had lent us but this only child, but now I see this one is one too much, and that we have a curse in having her. Out on her, hilding!"
The nurse intercepted Lord Capulet from beating his child, "God in heaven bless her! You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so."
"And why, my lady wisdom? hold your tongue, good prudence; smatter with your gossips, go."
"I speak no treason."
"O, God ye god-den."
"May not one speak?"
"Peace, you mumbling fool! Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl. For here we need it not."
Lady Capulet stood next to him and backed the nurse, "You are too hot."
"God's bread! It makes me mad. Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play, alone, in company, still my care hath been to have her matched, and having now provided a gentleman of noble parentage, of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly trained. Stuffed, as they say, with honorable parts, proportioned as one's thought would wish a man. And then to have a wretched puling fool, a whining mammet, in her fortune's tender, to answer 'I'll not wed. I cannot love, I am too young. I pray you, pardon me.' But, as you will not wed, I'll pardon you. Graze where you will you shall not house with me. Look to't, think on't, I do not use to jest. Thursday is near; lay hand on heart, advise. An you be mine, I'll give you to my friend. And you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in the streets, for, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee, nor what is mine shall never do thee good. Trust to't, bethink you; I'll not be forsworn." He said and left them
"Is there no pity sitting in the clouds, that sees into the bottom of my grief? O, sweet my mother, cast me not away! Delay this marriage for a month, a week. Or, if you do not, make the bridal bed in that dim monument where Tybalt lies." Juliet begged her mother.
"Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word. Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee." Lady Capulet said, leaving her distraught daughter.
"O God!--O nurse, how shall this be prevented? My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven. How shall that faith return again to earth, Unless that husband send it me from heaven by leaving earth? Comfort me, counsel me. Alack, alack, that heaven should practise stratagems upon so soft a subject as myself! What sayest thou? Hast thou not a word of joy? Some comfort, nurse."
The nurse looked at the girl that she had raised. Something inside of her heart told her to tell her what she thought for once, in stead of what she wanted to hear. "Faith, here it is. Romeo is banished, and all the world to nothing, that he dares ne'er come back to challenge you. Or, if he do, it needs must be by stealth.Then, since the case so stands as now it doth, I think it best you married with the county. O, he's a lovely gentleman! Romeo's a dishclout to him. An eagle, madam, hath not so green, so quick, so fair an eye as Paris hath. Beshrew my very heart, 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."
"Speakest thou from thy heart?" Juliet asked, something in her heart felt as though it had become lead.
"And from my soul too. Or else beshrew them both."
"Amen!" Juliet said quietly.
"What?"
"Well, thou hast comforted me marvelous much. Go in, and tell my lady I am gone, having displeased my father, to Laurence' cell, to make confession and to be absolved."
"Marry, I will. And this is wisely done." The nurse said and left.
"Ancient damnation! O most wicked fiend! Is it more sin to wish me thus forsworn, or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue which she hath praised him with above compare so many thousand times? Go, counselor. Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twain. I'll to the friar, to know his remedy. If all else fail, myself have power to die."
"So Juliet is to marry Paris in two days time?" Helena asked. She was sitting near Mercutio's door.
She had come to the Houses of Healing the night before like Hero had said, bringing with her the Prince and Benvolio. They had learned that Mercutio was alive, and now well, after the elder performed her magic upon him.
The prince had given Mercutio his punishment, twelve days in prison, without any light.
"What do we do Helena? Surely to God there is some way to save Juliet of losing her precious Romeo. He was her husband first."
"I don't know. I just don't know. Have you talked to Hero? Where is she?"
"She– She was harmed trying to break up Romeo and Tybalt's fight. Tybalt threw her to the ground and she broke her wrist. He then sliced her a shoulder wound. She is here in the houses. The elder has cured her as well. Come, we will tell her the news."
They reached the room which Hero was lying in.
Olivia came in and saw Hero sitting up in bed, looking pale, but heathier. She told her of what she had learned.
Hero sat in shock. "Go find Juliet. She will surely seek the friar's help. Find her, watch over her. Make sure she doesn't do anything drastic. I feel we may have to save her from herself."
HI MAMA!
Chapter 3
"I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire. The day is hot, the Capulets abroad, and, if we meet, we shall not escape a brawl. For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring." Benvolio said as he swept his black hair from his face.
"Thou art like one of those 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 it on the drawer, when indeed there is no need." Mercutio said before dipping his head into a horse's trough and flipped it back.
"Am I like such a fellow?"
"Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in Italy, and as soon moved to be moody, and as soon moody to be moved."
"And what to?"
"Nay, an there were two such, we should have none shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why, thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more, or a hair less, in his beard, than thou hast. Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes. What eye but such an eye would spy out such a quarrel? Thy head is as fun of quarrels as an egg is full of meat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg for quarreling. Thou hast quarreled with a man for coughing in the street, because he hath wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun. Didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet before Easter? With another, for tying his new shoes with old riband? and yet thou wilt tutor me from quarreling!" His fingers combed through his sandy blonde hair as his blue eyes watched his friend.
"An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man should buy the fee- simple of my life for an hour and a quarter."
"The fee-simple! O simple!"
"By my head, here come the Capulets!" Benvolio said, irritated.
"By my heel," Mercutio laughed, "I care not."
Tybalt and some of his men walked over to them.
He whispered to one of them, "Follow me close, for I will speak to them." Then he looked toward Benvolio and Mercutio along with some of the Montague men. "Gentlemen, good den, a word with one of you."
"And but one word with one of us? Couple it with something; make it a word and a blow." Mercutio said, mocking Tybalt.
Tybalt's black eyes narrowed, "You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you will give me occasion."
"Could you not take some occasion without giving?"
"Mercutio, thou consortest with Romeo,--"
"Consort! what, dost thou make us minstrels? An thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords. Here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall make you dance. 'Zounds, consort!"
Benvolio began to try to calm down both tempers, "We talk here in the public haunt of men. Either withdraw unto some private place, and reason coldly of your grievances, or else depart. Here all eyes gaze on us."
"Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze. I will not budge for no man's pleasure." Mercutio said, his upper lip curling and nostrils flaring.
Romeo came walking up to them, not noticing everyone that was there.
Tybalt smirked and said to Mercutio, "Well, peace be with you, sir: here comes my man."
"But I'll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery. Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower. Your worship in that sense may call him 'man.'" Mercutio said and backed down.
"Romeo, the hate I bear thee can afford no better term than this,-- thou art a villain." Tybalt said, venom laced each sound that he uttered.
Romeo stopped, noticing everyone for the first time. He looked at Tybalt with pity. "Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee doth much excuse the appertaining rage to such a greeting. Villain am I none. Therefore farewell. I see thou knowest me not." He said, and turned to leave.
"Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries that thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw." Tybalt said, enraged that Romeo was not so easily riled up.
"I do protest, I never injured thee, but love thee better than thou canst devise, till thou shalt know the reason of my love. And so, good Capulet,--which name I tender as dearly as my own,--be satisfied." Romeo said, trying to stop Tybalt before anything started.
"O calm, dishonorable, vile submission! Alla stoccata carries it away." Mercutio said, stepping in front of Romeo and drawing his rapier. "Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?"
"What wouldst thou have with me?" Tybalt said, not sure what Mercutio was doing.
"Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine lives. That I mean to make bold withal, and as you shall use me hereafter, drybeat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pitcher by the ears? Make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out."
Tybalt glared and drew his own weapon. "I am for you." He said deeply.
"Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up." Romeo said, trying to stop them
Olivia, Helena, and Hero, who had been following Romeo for the past three hours since he was married, looked at each other.
"This is bad. This is very bad." Helena said.
Hero narrowed her cinnamon eyes, "Helena, go get your cousin, the Prince. Olivia and I shall deal with this."
The other two girls looked at her.
Helena nodded gravely and began to run like some pursued thief towards the Prince's home.
Olivia looked at her and instantly felt Hero's anger. She squared her shoulders and they stepped out of the cool shadows.
Mercutio looked at Tybalt with an eagerness to fight, "Come, sir, your passado." He said and began to swing his weapon towards the Capulet.
"Draw, Benvolio. Beat down their weapons. Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage! Tybalt, Mercutio, the prince expressly hath forbidden bandying in Verona streets. Hold, Tybalt! good Mercutio!" Romeo called, but was ignored.
Olivia and Hero broke out into a full run. Hero grabbed Tybalt's arm and began to pull him back, while Olivia pulled Mercutio's arm. They allowed enough room for Romeo to get in-between them and hold them apart.
"Let go of me boy!" Tybalt shouted, sending the boy-clad girl down to the ground.
Her cap fell off and sent a raven colored shock spewed forth.
"Let go of my arm!" Mercutio said in a serious voice that made Olivia's hands falter. He wrenched free from her grasp, making her fall and sent her cap flying. Her bright blonde hair stood out against the greyness of stone.
Mercutio leaned forward as he got free from her grasp as did Tybalt, who's sword was still drawn.
His sword stuck something. He looked up to see Mercutio's eyes wide with horror. Tybalt withdrew his sword.
Olivia's blue eyes were wide with horror. "I will get the a surgeon." She whispered so that only Mercutio could hear. She got up and ran towards the Houses of Healing.
"I am hurt. A plague o' both your houses! I am sped."
"What? Art thou hurt?" Benvolio asked, concern written over his face.
"Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch. Marry, 'tis enough." He said and started after to where Olivia had run off to.
Romeo looked at his friend and whispered, "Courage man. The hurt cannot be much."
"No, tis not as deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door, but 'tis enough and 'twill serve. Ask for me tomorrow and you shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague on both your houses! 'Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a cat, to scratch a man to death! A braggart, a rouge, a villain, that fights by the book of arithmetic!" He pulled Romeo up towards where he was walking and whispered, "Why the devil came you three between us? I was hurt under your arm."
"I thought all for the best." He said, seeing that they had stopped near the Houses of Healing.
"Help me into this house, Benvolio, or I shall faint. A plague on both you houses. They have made worms' meat of me. I have it, and soundly too. Your houses!" He said, crashing into the door which had stood ajar.
Benvolio went up to him and placed his fingers where his pulse was.
"This gentleman, the prince's near ally, ,y very friend, hath got his mortal hurt in my behalf. My reputation stained with Tybalt's slander,-- Tybalt, that an hour hath been my kinsman! O sweet Juliet, thy beauty hath made me effeminate and in my temper softened valor's steel!" Romeo whispered.
Only Hero heard him, she was standing next to him.
Benvolio looked up from Mercutio, "O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead! That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds, which too untimely here did scorn the earth."
Romeo looked at him, happiness and gentleness faded from his eyes. "This day's black fate on more days doth depend. This but begins the woe, others must end."
"Here comes the furious Tybalt back again."
"Alive, in triumph! And Mercutio slain! Away to heaven, respective lenity, and fire-eyed fury be my conduct now!"
Everyone turned and went to meet Tybalt. Hero stayed behind and went to Mercutio's body that Olivia was now leaning over.
"Is he dead?"
"I can find no pulse from his heart, but I can feel his warm breath. His pulse must be shallow."
"Come, bring him to a bed and be quick!" The head of the healers said. Others were scurrying about, getting herbs and water ready for Mercutio's mending.
"I shall see you later. I must stop Romeo and Tybalt's fight." Hero said, and ran after the group.
"Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again, that late thou gavest me; for Mercutio's soul is but a little way above our heads, staying for thine to keep him company. Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him." Romeo said, his rapier drawn. He was circling Tybalt like a hawk circle's his prey.
"Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him here, shalt with him hence." Tybalt said and began to fight with Romeo.
"This shall determine that" Romeo said, fighting back.
Hero pushed them both away from each other. "Hold! I charge thee hold! One man hath died already!"
Tybalt grabbed the "boy's" arm and threw him on the ground. "I have told thou once already! Stay back insolent child!"
Hero hit the ground hard, feeling the bond in her wrist break.
"This shall teach thee!" He said, and sliced deeply into her left shoulder.
While he as "teaching" Hero a lesson, Romeo had come up behind him.
"Tybalt!" He shouted, making the other man turn around.
Romeo ran him through with the blade.
Tybalt dropped to his knees and then onto his face. He was dead.
"Romeo, away, be gone! The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain. Stand not amazed. The prince will doom thee death, if thou art taken: hence, be gone, away!" Benvolio cried out.
"O, I am fortune's fool!"
"Why dost thou stay?"
Romeo looked at him for a minute and then took off running.
"Which way ran he that killed Mercutio? Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he?" One citizen asked. News had traveled fast of Mercutio's death, though not that it was a mistake.
"There lies that Tybalt." Benvolio said.
"Up, sir, go with me. I charge thee in the princes name, obey."
The prince came in with Helena, the Montagues, the Capulets, and some odd attendants.
"Where are the vile beginners of this fray?" The prince asked.
"O noble prince, I can discover all. The unlucky manage of the fatal brawl. There lies the man slain by young Romeo, that slew thy kinsman, the brave Mercutio."
"Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child! O prince! O cousin! husband! O, the blood is spilt O my dear kinsman! Prince, as thou art true, for blood of ours, shed blood of Montague. O cousin, cousin!" Lady Capulet cried out and screeched.
"Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?" The Prince asked.
"Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay. Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him be think how nice the quarrel was, and urged withal your high displeasure. All this uttered with gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bowed could not take truce with the unruly spleen of Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tilts with piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast who all as hot turns deadly point to point, and with martial scorn with one hand beats cold death aside, and with the other sends back to Tybalt, whose dexterity retorts it. Romeo cries aloud, 'Hold friends! Friends part!' and swifter than his tongue, his agile arm beats down their fatal points, and 'twixt them rushes. Underneath whose arm an envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled. But by and by comes back to Romeo, who had but newly entertained revenge, and to 't they go like lightning, for, ere I could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain. And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly. This is the truth, or let Benvolio die."
Lady Capulet cried out in rage, "He is a kinsman to the Montague. Affection makes him false. He speaks not true. Some twenty of them fought in this black strife, and all those twenty could but kill one life. I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give. Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live."
"Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio. Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?"
"Not Romeo, Prince, he was Mercutio's friend. His fault concludes but what the law should end the life of Tybalt." Lord Montague said, backing his son.
"And for that offence immediately we do exile him hence. I have an interst in your hate's proceeding, my blood for your rude brawls doth lie a- bleeding. But I'll amerce you with so strong a fine That you shall all repent the loss of mine. I will be deaf to pleading and excuses. Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses. Therefore use none: let Romeo hence in haste, else, when he's found, that hour is his last. Bear hence this body and attend our will. Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill."
The Prince walked over to where he had left Helena. She stood sobbing in the arms of Hero. He touched her shoulder and opened his arms to her crying.
Helena went to her cousin's arms and cried harder.
Hero looked at the girl and sighed. "Sweet Helena do not cry. Come to the Houses of Healing after the crowd had disappeared. The elder will be waiting on you. Olivia and I will be taking care of Romeo and Juliet. Do not cry gentle coz." Hero whispered and then stole off into the shadows.
Hero entered the Houses of Healing with little strength.
Olivia caught her as she fell into the room where Mercutio lay.
"Good Lord, Hero, what has happened."
"I pulled Romeo and Tybalt apart. Tybalt got angry and threw me to the ground, breaking my wrist. He took his rapier and sliced my shoulder. Help me. Take me to the elder."
Olivia called forth one of the healers.
"Olivia, watch over Juliet. Tybalt was slain by Romeo and the prince has banished Romeo."
Olivia nodded her head gravely. When the healer took Hero from her arms, she left the houses. She left to go and find out what was happening with Juliet as well as Romeo.
"Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, towards Phoebus' lodging: such a wagoner as Phaethon would whip you to the west, and bring in cloudy night immediately. Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night, that runaway's eyes may wink and Romeo leap to these arms, untalked of and unseen. Lovers can see to do their amorous rites by their own beauties, or, if love be blind, it best agrees with night. Come, civil night, thou sober- suited matron, all in black, and learn me how to lose a winning match, Played for a pair of stainless maidenhoods. Hood my unmanned blood, bating in my cheeks, with thy black mantle; till strange love, grown bold, think true love acted simple modesty. Come, night; come, Romeo. Come, thou day in night. For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night whiter than new snow on a raven's back. Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-browed night, give me my Romeo, and, when he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars, and he will make the face of heaven so fine that all the world will be in love with night and pay no worship to the garish sun. O, I have bought the mansion of a love, but not possessed it, and, though I am sold, not yet enjoyed. So tedious is this day as is the night before some festival to an impatient child that hath new robes and may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse, and she brings news. And every tongue that speaks but Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence." Juliet said as she sat at her window.
The nurse walked into the room with the cords that Romeo had told her to get.
"Nurse, what news? What hast thou there? The cords that Romeo bid thee fetch?"
"Ay, ay, the cords." She said and threw them down.
"Ay me! what news? why dost thou wring thy hands?"
"Ah, well-a-day! he's dead, he's dead, he's dead! We are undone, lady, we are undone! Alack the day! he's gone, he's killed, he's dead!"
"Can heaven be so envious?"
"Romeo can, though heaven cannot. O Romeo, Romeo! Who ever would have thought it? Romeo!"
"What devil art thou, that dost torment me thus? This torture should be roared in dismal hell. Hath Romeo slain himself? Say thou but 'I,' And that bare vowel 'I' shall poison more than the death-darting eye of cockatrice. I am not I, if there be such an I. Or those eyes shut, that make thee answer 'I.' If he be slain, say 'I'; or if not, no. Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe."
"I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes,– God save the mark!--here on his manly breast. A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse. Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaubed in blood, all in gore-blood. I swooned at the sight."
"O, break, my heart! poor bankrupt, break at once! To prison, eyes, ne'er look on liberty! Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here. And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier!"
"O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had! O courteous Tybalt! Honest gentleman! That ever I should live to see thee dead!"
"What storm is this that blows so contrary? Is Romeo slaughtered, and is Tybalt dead? My dear-loved cousin, and my dearer lord? Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom! For who is living, if those two are gone?"
"Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished. Romeo that killed him, he is banished."
"O God! did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood?"
"It did, it did. Alas the day, it did!"
"O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face! Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave? Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical! Dove-feathered raven! wolvish-ravening lamb! Despised substance of divinest show! Just opposite to what thou justly seemest, a damned saint, an honorable villain! O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell, when thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend in moral 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!"
"There's no trust, no faith, no honesty in men; all perjured, all forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers. Ah, where's my man? Give me some aqua vitae. These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old. Shame come to Romeo!"
"Blister'd be thy tongue for such a wish! He was not born to shame. Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit. For 'tis a throne where honour may be crowned sole monarch of the universal earth. O, what a beast was I to chide at him!"
"Will you speak well of him that killed your cousin?"
"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 murdered 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 lamentations might have moved? 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?"
"Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corse. Will you go to them? I will bring you thither."
"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 beguiled, both you and I, for Romeo is exiled. 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!"
"Hie to your chamber. I'll find Romeo to comfort you. I wot well where he is. Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night. I'll to him. He is hid at Laurence' cell."
"O, find him! give this ring to my true knight, and bid him come to take his last farewell."
"Romeo, come forth, come forth, thou fearful man. Affliction is enamoured of thy parts, and thou art wedded to calamity."
Romeo entered at the Friar's words.
"Father, what news? What is the prince's doom? What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand, that I yet know not?"
"Too familiar is my dear son with such sour company. I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom."
"What less than dooms-day is the prince's doom?"
"A gentler judgment vanished from his lips. No body's death, but body's banishment."
"Ha banishment! Be merciful, say 'death.' For exile hath more terror in his look, much more than death. Do not say 'banishment.'"
"Hence from Verona art thou banished. Be patient, for the world is broad and wide."
"There is no world without Verona walls, but purgatory, torture, Hell itself. Hence-banished is banished from the world, and world's exile is death. Then banished is death mis-termed, calling death banishment, thou cuttest my head off with a golden axe and smilest upon the stroke that murders me."
"O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness! Thy fault our law calls death, but the kind prince taking thy part hath rushed aside the law, and turned that black word death to banishment. This is dear mercy and thou seest it not."
"'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here, wher Juliet lives and every cat and dog and litle mouse, every unworthy thing live here in heaven and may look on her; but Romeo may not: more validity, more honourable state, more courtship lives in carrion-flies than Romeo. They my seize on the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand and steal immortal blessing from her lips, who even in pure and vestal modesty, still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin. But Romeo may not. He is banished. Flies may do this, but I from this must fly. They are free men, but I am banished. And sayest thou yet that exile is not death? Hadst thou no poison mixed, no sharp-ground knife, no sudden mean of death, though never so mean, but 'banished' to kill me?--'banished'? O friar, the damned use that word in hell. Howlings attend it, how hast thou the heart, being a divine, a ghostly confessor, a sin-absolver, and my friend professed, to mangle me with that word 'banished'?"
"Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak a word."
"O thou wilt speak again of banishment."
"I'll give thee armor to keep off that word. Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy, to comfort thee, though banished."
"Yet 'banished'? Hang up philosophy! Unless philosophy can make a Juliet, displant a town, reverse a prince's doom, it helps not, it prevails not: talk no more."
"O, then I see that madmen have no ears."
"How should they, when that wise men have no eyes?"
"Let me dispute with thee of thy estate."
"Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel. Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love, an hour but married, Tybalt murdered, doting like me and like me banished, then mightest thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair, and fall upon the ground, as I do now, Taking the measure of an unmade grave."
A knock came from the door.
"Arise! One knocks. Good Romeo, hide thyself."
"Not I. Unless the breath of heartsick groans, mist-like, infold me from the search of eyes."
The knock became more urgent.
"Hark, how they knock! Who's there? Romeo, arise! Thou wilt be taken. Stay awhile! Stand up."
Again the knocking became more urgent and louder.
"Run to my study. By and by! God's will, what simpleness is this! I come, I come!" He said as he went to the door and asked, "Who knocks so hard? Whence come you? What's your will?"
The nurse said loud enough that he could hear through the door, "Let me come in, and you shall know my errand. I come from Lady Juliet."
"Welcome then," He said, opening the door.
"O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar, where is my lady's lord? Where is Romeo?"
"There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk." Friar Laurence said, pointing to a heap on the floor.
"O, he is even in my mistress' case. Just in her case! O woeful sympathy! Piteous predicament! Even so lies she, blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering. Stand up, stand up. Stand and you be a man. For Juliet's sake. For her sake, rise and stand. Why should you fall into so deep an O?"
"Nurse!"
"Ah sir! Ah sir! Well, death's the end of all."
"Spakest thou of Juliet? How is it with her? Doth she not think me and old murderer, now that I have stained the childhood of our joy with blood removed but little from her own? Where is she and how doth she? And what says my concealed lady to our cancelled love?"
"O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps. And now falls on her bed, and then starts up, and Tybalt calls. And then on Romeo cries, and then down falls again."
"As if that name, shot from the deadly level of a gun, did murder her as that name's cursed hand murdered her kinsman. O, tell me, friar, tell me, in what vile part of this anatomy doth my name lodge? Tell me, that I may sack the hateful mansion." Romeo shouted angrily, and drew his sword.
"Hold thy desperate hand. Art thou a man? Thy form cries out thou art. Thy tears are womanish. Thy wild acts denote the unreasonable fury of a beast. Unseemly woman in a seeming man! Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both! Thou hast amazed me, by my holy order, I thought thy disposition better tempered. Hast thou slain Tybalt? Wilt thou slay thyself? And stay thy lady too that lives in thee, by doing damned hate upon thyself? Why railest thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth? Since birth, and heaven, and earth, all three do meet in thee at once, which thou at once wouldst lose. Fie, fie, thou shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit. Which, like a usurer, abound'st in all, and usest none in that true use indeed Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit. Thy noble shape is but a form of wax, digressing from the valour of a man. Thy dear love sworn but hollow perjury, killing that love which thou hast vowed to cherish. Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love, mis-shapen in the conduct of them both, like powder in a skitless soldier's flask, is set afire by thine own ignorance, and thou dismember'd with thine own defense. What, rouse thee, man! Thy Juliet is alive, for whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead. There art thou happy, Tybalt would kill thee, but thou slewest Tybalt. There are thou happy too. The law that threatened death becomes thy friend and turns it to exile. There art thou happy. A pack of blessings lights up upon thy back. Happiness courts thee in her best array, but, like a misbehaved and sullen wench, thou poutest upon thy fortune and thy love. Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable. Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed, ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her. But look thou stay not till the watch be set, for then thou canst not pass to Mantua where thou shalt live, till we can find a time to blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends, beg pardon of the prince, and call thee back with twenty hundred thousand times more joy than thou wentest forth in lamentation. Go before, nurse. Commend me to thy lady, and bid her hasten all the house to bed. Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto. Romeo is coming."
"O Lord, I could have stayed here all the night to hear good counsel. O, what learning is! My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come."
"Do so and bid my sweet prepare to chide."
"Here, sir, a ring she bid me give you, sir. Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late." She said and left to tell Juliet.
"How well my comfort is revived by this!"
"Go hence; good night, and here stands all your state. Either be gone before the watch be set, or by the break of day disguised from hence. Sojourn in Mantua. I'll find out your man, and he shall signify from time to time every good hap to you that chances here. Give me thy hand, 'tis late. Farewell. Good night."
"But that a joy past joy calls out on me, It were a grief, so brief to part with thee. Farewell."
Lord and Lady Capulet sat in Lord Capulet's private study. Count Paris sat in front of them.
"Things have fallen out, sir, so unluckily, that we have had no time to move our daughter. Look you, she loved her kinsman Tybalt dearly, and so did I:--Well, we were born to die. 'Tis very late, she'll not come down to- night. I promise you, but for your company, I would have been a-bed an hour ago."
Paris looked at him with pity. "These times of woe afford no time to woo. Madam, good night: commend me to your daughter."
Lady Capulet sent him a teary smile. "I will, and know her mind early to-morrow; To-night she is mewed up to her heaviness."
"Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender of my child's love. I think she will be ruled in all respects by me. Nay, more, I doubt it not. Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed, acquaint her here of my son Paris' love. And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next– But, soft! what day is this?"
"Monday, my lord," Paris said.
"Monday! ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon, O' Thursday let it be: o' Thursday, tell her, she shall be married to this noble earl. Will you be ready? Do you like this haste? We'll keep no great ado,--a friend or two. For, hark you, Tybalt being slain so late, It may be thought we held him carelessly, being our kinsman, if we revel much. Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends, and there an end. But what say you to Thursday?"
"My lord, I would that Thursday were to-morrow."
"Well get you gone, o' Thursday be it, then. Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed, prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day. Farewell, my lord. Light to my chamber, ho! Afore me! it is so very very late, That we may call it early by and by. Good night."
Olivia, who had been setting in the giant tree that was in-between Lord Capulet's private study and Juliet's room, stared at the study window in shock. She had to tell the others.
As she snuck out, she saw Romeo sneak in.
"Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day. It was the nightingale, and not the lark, that pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear. Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree, believe me, love, it was the nightingale." Juliet said, scooting closer to the warm place that he had left.
Romeo fastened his hilt onto his belt. "It was the lark, the herald of the morn, no nightingale. Look, love, what envious streaks do lace the severing clouds in yonder east. Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops. I must be gone and live, or stay and die."
"Yon light is not day-light, I know it, I. It is some meteor that the sun exhales, to be to thee this night a torch-bearer, and light thee on thy way to Mantua. Therefore stay yet, thou needest not to be gone."
"Let me be taken, let me be put to death. I am content, so thou wilt have it so. I'll say yon grey is not the morning's eye, 'tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow, nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat the vaulty heaven so high above our heads. I have more care to stay than will to go. Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so. How is't, my soul? let's talk; it is not day."
"It is, it is. Hie hence, be gone, away! It is the lark that sings so out of tune, straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps. Some say the lark makes sweet division. This doth not so, for she divideth us. Some say the lark and loathed toad change eyes, O, now I would they had changed voices too! Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray, hunting thee hence with hunt's-up to the day, O, now be gone. more light and light it grows."
"More light and light; more dark and dark our woes!" He said, taking her into his arms and kissing her.
Without warning, the nurse walked into the chamber. "Madam!" She said, signifying that she was there.
"Nurse?" Juliet asked in a daze.
"Your lady mother is coming to your chamber. The day is broke, be wary, look about." She said and left.
Juliet's eyes were wide in horror. She ran to the window and tore it open. "Then, window, let day in, and let life out."
"Farewell, farewell! One kiss, and I'll descend." Romeo said, climbing down, but first kissing her once more.
"Art thou gone so? Love, lord, ay, husband, friend! I must hear from thee every day in the hour, for in a minute there are many days. O, by this count I shall be much in years ere I again behold my Romeo!"
"Farewell! I will omit no opportunity that may convey my greetings, love, to thee."
"O, thinkest thou we shall ever meet again?"
"I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve for sweet discourses in our time to come."
"O God, I have an ill-divining soul! Methinks I see thee, now thou art below, As one dead in the bottom of a tomb. Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale."
"And trust me, love, in my eye so do you. Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu!"
He said, and finally left.
"O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle. If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him. That is renowned for faith? Be fickle, fortune. For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long, but send him back.."
Lady Capulet walked into her daughter's room and called out, "Ho, daughter! are you up?"
"Who is't that calls? is it my lady mother? Is she not down so late, or up so early? What unaccustomed cause procures her hither?" Asked Juliet as she entered her room.
"Why, how now, Juliet!"
"Madam, I am not well."
"Evermore weeping for your cousin's death? What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears? An if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live. Therefore, have done, some grief shows much of love. But much of grief shows still some want of wit."
"Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss."
"So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend which you weep for."
"Feeling so the loss, cannot choose but ever weep the friend."
"Well, girl, thou weepest not so much for his death, as that the villain lives which slaughtered him."
"What villain madam?"
"That same villain, Romeo."
Juliet thought to herself, "Villain and he be many miles asunder.– God Pardon him! I do, with all my heart." Then she said aloud, "No man like he doth grieve my heart."
"That is, because the traitor murderer lives."
"Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands. Would none but I might venge my cousin's death!"
"We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not. Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua, where that same banished runagate doth live, Shall give him such an unaccustomed dram, that he shall soon keep Tybalt company. And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied. "
"Indeed, I never shall be satisfied with Romeo, till I behold him-- dead--Is my poor heart for a kinsman vexed. Madam, if you could find out but a man to bear a poison, I would temper it. That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof, Soon sleep in quiet. O, how my heart abhors to hear him named, and cannot come to him. To wreak the love I bore my cousin upon his body that slaughtered him!"
"Find thou the means, and I'll find such a man. But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl."
"And joy comes well in such a needy time. What are they, I beseech your ladyship?"
"Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child. One who, to put thee from thy heaviness, hath sorted out a sudden day of joy, that thou expectest not nor I looked not for."
"Madam, in happy time, what day is that?"
"Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn, the gallant, young and noble gentleman, the County Paris, at Saint Peter's Church, shall happily make thee there a joyful bride."
"Now, by Saint Peter's Church and Peter too, he shall not make me there a joyful bride. I wonder at this haste, that I must wed ere he, that should be husband, comes to woo. I pray you, tell my lord and father, madam, I will not marry yet, and, when I do, I swear, It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate, rather than Paris. These are news indeed!"
"Here comes your father; tell him so yourself, and see how he will take it at your hands." Hre mother said coldly.
Lord Capulet entered Juliet's room in a somewhat joyful mood. "When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle dew; but for the sunset of my brother's son it rains downright. How now! a conduit, girl? What, still in tears? Evermore showering? In one little body thou counterfeitest a bark, a sea, a wind. For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea, do ebb and flow with tears, the bark thy body is, sailing in this salt flood. The winds, thy sighs. Who, raging with thy tears, and they with them, without a sudden calm, will overset Thy tempest-tossed body. How now, wife! Have you delivered to her our decree?"
"Ay, sir; but she will none, she gives you thanks. I would the fool were married to her grave!"
"Soft! take me with you, take me with you, wife. How! Will she none? Doth she not give us thanks? Is she not proud? Doth she not count her blest, unworthy as she is, that we have wrought so worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom?" Lord Capulet shouted, his temper rivaling the Prince's.
"Not proud, you have, but thankful, that you have. Proud can I never be of what I hate, but thankful even for hate, that is meant love." Juliet said in cool defiance.
"How now, how now, chop-logic! What is this? 'Proud,' and 'I thank you,' and 'I thank you not;' And yet 'not proud,' mistress minion, you, thank me no thankings, nor, proud me no prouds, but fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next, to go with Paris to Saint Peter's Church, or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither. Out, you green-sickness carrion! out, you baggage! You tallow-face!"
"Fie, fie! what, are you mad?" Lady Capulet said, frightened for her daughter.
Juliet knelt down on her knees, for she knew she had said the wrong thing to her father. "Good father, I beseech you on my knees, hear me with patience but to speak a word." She said, pleadingly.
"Hang thee, young baggage! Disobedient wretch! I tell thee what: get thee to church o' Thursday, Or never after look me in the face. Speak not, reply not, do not answer me. My fingers itch. Wife, we scarce thought us blest that God had lent us but this only child, but now I see this one is one too much, and that we have a curse in having her. Out on her, hilding!"
The nurse intercepted Lord Capulet from beating his child, "God in heaven bless her! You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so."
"And why, my lady wisdom? hold your tongue, good prudence; smatter with your gossips, go."
"I speak no treason."
"O, God ye god-den."
"May not one speak?"
"Peace, you mumbling fool! Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl. For here we need it not."
Lady Capulet stood next to him and backed the nurse, "You are too hot."
"God's bread! It makes me mad. Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play, alone, in company, still my care hath been to have her matched, and having now provided a gentleman of noble parentage, of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly trained. Stuffed, as they say, with honorable parts, proportioned as one's thought would wish a man. And then to have a wretched puling fool, a whining mammet, in her fortune's tender, to answer 'I'll not wed. I cannot love, I am too young. I pray you, pardon me.' But, as you will not wed, I'll pardon you. Graze where you will you shall not house with me. Look to't, think on't, I do not use to jest. Thursday is near; lay hand on heart, advise. An you be mine, I'll give you to my friend. And you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in the streets, for, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee, nor what is mine shall never do thee good. Trust to't, bethink you; I'll not be forsworn." He said and left them
"Is there no pity sitting in the clouds, that sees into the bottom of my grief? O, sweet my mother, cast me not away! Delay this marriage for a month, a week. Or, if you do not, make the bridal bed in that dim monument where Tybalt lies." Juliet begged her mother.
"Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word. Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee." Lady Capulet said, leaving her distraught daughter.
"O God!--O nurse, how shall this be prevented? My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven. How shall that faith return again to earth, Unless that husband send it me from heaven by leaving earth? Comfort me, counsel me. Alack, alack, that heaven should practise stratagems upon so soft a subject as myself! What sayest thou? Hast thou not a word of joy? Some comfort, nurse."
The nurse looked at the girl that she had raised. Something inside of her heart told her to tell her what she thought for once, in stead of what she wanted to hear. "Faith, here it is. Romeo is banished, and all the world to nothing, that he dares ne'er come back to challenge you. Or, if he do, it needs must be by stealth.Then, since the case so stands as now it doth, I think it best you married with the county. O, he's a lovely gentleman! Romeo's a dishclout to him. An eagle, madam, hath not so green, so quick, so fair an eye as Paris hath. Beshrew my very heart, 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."
"Speakest thou from thy heart?" Juliet asked, something in her heart felt as though it had become lead.
"And from my soul too. Or else beshrew them both."
"Amen!" Juliet said quietly.
"What?"
"Well, thou hast comforted me marvelous much. Go in, and tell my lady I am gone, having displeased my father, to Laurence' cell, to make confession and to be absolved."
"Marry, I will. And this is wisely done." The nurse said and left.
"Ancient damnation! O most wicked fiend! Is it more sin to wish me thus forsworn, or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue which she hath praised him with above compare so many thousand times? Go, counselor. Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twain. I'll to the friar, to know his remedy. If all else fail, myself have power to die."
"So Juliet is to marry Paris in two days time?" Helena asked. She was sitting near Mercutio's door.
She had come to the Houses of Healing the night before like Hero had said, bringing with her the Prince and Benvolio. They had learned that Mercutio was alive, and now well, after the elder performed her magic upon him.
The prince had given Mercutio his punishment, twelve days in prison, without any light.
"What do we do Helena? Surely to God there is some way to save Juliet of losing her precious Romeo. He was her husband first."
"I don't know. I just don't know. Have you talked to Hero? Where is she?"
"She– She was harmed trying to break up Romeo and Tybalt's fight. Tybalt threw her to the ground and she broke her wrist. He then sliced her a shoulder wound. She is here in the houses. The elder has cured her as well. Come, we will tell her the news."
They reached the room which Hero was lying in.
Olivia came in and saw Hero sitting up in bed, looking pale, but heathier. She told her of what she had learned.
Hero sat in shock. "Go find Juliet. She will surely seek the friar's help. Find her, watch over her. Make sure she doesn't do anything drastic. I feel we may have to save her from herself."
