Act 1, Scene 1 Enter SAMPSON and GREGORY of the house of Capulet, with swords and bucklers SAMPSON and GREGORY, servants of the Capulet family, enter carrying swords and small shields. No Fear Shakespeare – Romeo and Juliet (by SparkNotes) Original Text Modern Text Act 1. Online PDF Romeo and Juliet (Sparknotes No Fear Shakespeare), Read PDF Romeo and Juliet (Sparknotes No Fear Shakespeare), Full PDF Romeo and Juliet. Read Romeo and Juliet alongside a modern English translation. Act 1; Prologue · Scene 1 Purchase on caite.info Romeo and Juliet (No Fear Shakespeare).
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Romeo and Juliet I edited by John Crowther. p. cm.-(No fear Shakespeare). Summary: Presents the original text of Shakespeare's play side by side with a. GREGORY No, marry; I fear thee! SAMPSON Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin. GREGORY I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as they list. This books (Romeo and Juliet (Sparknotes No Fear Shakespeare) [FREE]) Made by SparkNotes About Books Romeo and Juliet To Download.
Be the first to like this. O, here comes my nurse, And she brings news; and every tongue that speaks But Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence. The earth that's nature's mother is her tomb; What is her burying grave that is her womb, And from her womb children of divers kind We sucking on her natural bosom find, Many for many virtues excellent, None but for some and yet all different. 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: Tracking delivery International orders Delivery restrictions Problems with your delivery Delivery options: Clipping is a handy way to collect important slides you want to go back to later. Top Pick.
Musicians waiting. He shift a trencher?
Second Servant When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's hands and they unwashed too, 'tis a foul thing. First Servant Away with the joint-stools, remove the court-cupboard, look to the plate. Good thou, save me a piece of marchpane; and, as thou lovest me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell.
Antony, and Potpan!
Second Servant Ay, boy, ready. First Servant You are looked for and called for, asked for and sought for, in the great chamber. Second Servant We cannot be here and there too. Cheerly, boys; be brisk awhile, and the longer liver take all. Now Romeo is beloved and loves again, Alike betwitched by the charm of looks, But to his foe supposed he must complain, And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks: Being held a foe, he may not have access To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear; And she as much in love, her means much less To meet her new-beloved any where: But passion lends them power, time means, to meet Tempering extremities with extreme sweet.
Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out. He climbs the wall, and leaps down within it. Now, ere the sun advance his burning eye, The day to cheer and night's dank dew to dry, I must up-fill this osier cage of ours With baleful weeds and precious-juiced flowers.
The earth that's nature's mother is her tomb; What is her burying grave that is her womb, And from her womb children of divers kind We sucking on her natural bosom find, Many for many virtues excellent, None but for some and yet all different. O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities: For nought so vile that on the earth doth live But to the earth some special good doth give, Nor aught so good but strain'd from that fair use Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse: Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied; And vice sometimes by action dignified.
Within the infant rind of this small flower Poison hath residence and medicine power: For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part; Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart. Two such opposed kings encamp them still In man as well as herbs, grace and rude will; And where the worser is predominant, Full soon the canker death eats up that plant. Came he not home to-night? Torments him so, that he will sure run mad.
O, he is the courageous captain of compliments. He fights as you sing prick-song, keeps time, distance, and proportion; rests me his minim rest, one, two, and the third in your bosom: O, their bones, their bones!
Perchance she cannot meet him: O, she is lame! Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love, And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings.
Now is the sun upon the highmost hill Of this day's journey, and from nine till twelve Is three long hours, yet she is not come. Had she affections and warm youthful blood, She would be as swift in motion as a ball; My words would bandy her to my sweet love, And his to me: But old folks, many feign as they were dead; Unwieldy, slow, heavy and pale as lead.
O God, she comes! Do thou but close our hands with holy words, Then love-devouring death do what he dare; It is enough I may but call her mine. Therefore love moderately; long love doth so; Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. A public place. The day is hot, the Capulets abroad, And, if we meet, we shall not scape a brawl; For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring. 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 quarrelling: O simple!
Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night, That runaway's eyes may wink and Romeo Leap to these arms, untalk'd 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, Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods: Hood my unmann'd 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-brow'd 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 possess'd it, and, though I am sold, Not yet enjoy'd: O, here comes my nurse, And she brings news; and every tongue that speaks But Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence.
Enter Nurse, with cords. Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts, And thou art wedded to calamity.
Look you, she loved her kinsman Tybalt dearly, And so did I: I promise you, but for your company, I would have been a-bed an hour ago. Madam, good night: 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!
Well, Wednesday is too soon, O' Thursday let it be: Will you be ready? 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? 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! Good night. 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. 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.
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