4.3 Flashcards
CAPULET
My heart is wondrous light
Since this same wayward girl is so reclaimed
Ay, those attires are best: But gentle nurse, I pray thee, leave me to myself tonight
For I have need of many orisons
To move the heavens to smile upon my state,
Which, well thou knowst is cross and full of sin
LADY CAPULET
What are you busy ho? Need you my help?
No, madam: we have cull’d such necessaries
As are behoveful for our state tomorrow
So please you, let me now be left alone
And let the nurse this night sit up with you
For I am sure, you have your hands full all
In this so sudden business
LADY CAPULET
Good Night
Get thee to bed, and rest, for thou hast need
Farewell!
God knows when we shall meet again,
I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins,
That almost freezes up the heat of life:
I’ll call them back again to comfort me
Nurse! What should she do here?
My dismal scene I needs must act alone.
Come, vial
What if this mixture do not work at all?
Shall I be married then tomorrow morning?
No, no: thus shall forbid it: lie thou there.
What if it be a poison which the friar subtly hath ministered to have me dead, lest in this marriage he should be dishonored
because he married me before to Romeo? I fear it is: and yet, me thinks, it should not,
For he hath still been tried a holy man
How if, when I am laid into the tomb,
I wake up before the time that Romeo
Come to redeem me? there’s a fearful point!
Shall I not, then, be stifled in the vault
To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in,
And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes?
Or, if I live, is it not very like the horrible conceit of death and night
Together with the terror of the place
As in a vault, an ancient receptacle
Where, for these many hundred years, the bones of all my buried ancestors are packed
Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth
Lies festering in his shroud, where, as they say
At some hours in the night spirit resort
Alack alack, is it not like that
I, so early waking, what with the loathsome smells,
And shrieks like mandrakes torn out of the earth, that living mortals, hearing them, run mad
O if I wake, shall I be distraught
Environed with all these hideous fears?
And madly play with my forefathers joints?
And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud?
And in this rage, with some great kinsman’s bone
As with a club, dash out my desperate brains?
O, look! Methinks I see my cousins ghost
Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body
Upon a rapiers point: stay, Tybalt stay!
Romeo I come, this do I drink to thee
