Anonymous Tip Box

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The below is NOT needed to post an anonymous tip.

7 thoughts on “Anonymous Tip Box”

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    it is a big disappointment to loose older stuff about people how are still getting away with corruption. why was this changed so much. for years this was the only site where the truth about bad guys would stay on the internet available with a simple search?

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      are the children of an idle brain,
      Begot of nothing but vain fantasy,
      Which is as thin of substance as the air
      And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes
      Even now the frozen bosom of the north,
      And, being anger’d, puffs away from thence,
      Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.
      BENVOLIO
      This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves;
      Supper is done, and we shall come too late.
      ROMEO
      I fear, too early: for my mind misgives
      Some consequence yet hanging in the stars
      Shall bitterly begin his fearful date
      With this night’s revels and expire the term
      Of a despised life closed in my breast
      By some vile forfeit of untimely death.
      But He, that hath the steerage of my course,
      Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen.
      BENVOLIO
      Strike, drum.
      Exeunt

      SCENE V. A hall in Capulet’s house.

      Musicians waiting. Enter Servingmen with napkins
      First Servant
      Where’s Potpan, that he helps not to take away? He
      shift a trencher? he scrape 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.
      Enter CAPULET, with JULIET and others of his house, meeting the Guests and Maskers

      CAPULET
      Welcome, gentlemen! ladies that have their toes
      Unplagued with corns will have a bout with you.
      Ah ha, my mistresses! which of you all
      Will now deny to dance? she that makes dainty,
      She, I’ll swear, hath corns; am I come near ye now?
      Welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day
      That I have worn a visor and could tell
      A whispering tale in a fair lady’s ear,
      Such as would please: ’tis gone, ’tis gone, ’tis gone:
      You are welcome, gentlemen! come, musicians, play.
      A hall, a hall! give room! and foot it, girls.
      Music plays, and they dance

      More light, you knaves; and turn the tables up,
      And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot.
      Ah, sirrah, this unlook’d-for sport comes well.
      Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet;
      For you and I are past our dancing days:
      How long is’t now since last yourself and I
      Were in a mask?
      Second Capulet
      By’r lady, thirty years.
      CAPULET
      What, man! ’tis not so much, ’tis not so much:
      ‘Tis since the nuptials of Lucentio,
      Come pentecost as quickly as it will,
      Some five and twenty years; and then we mask’d.
      Second Capulet
      ‘Tis more, ’tis more, his son is elder, sir;
      His son is thirty.
      CAPULET
      Will you tell me that?
      His son was but a ward two years ago.
      ROMEO
      [To a Servingman] What lady is that, which doth
      enrich the hand
      Of yonder knight?
      Servant
      I know not, sir.
      ROMEO
      O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
      It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
      Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope’s ear;
      Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!
      So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows,
      As yonder lady o’er her fellows shows.
      The measure done, I’ll watch her place of stand,
      And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand.
      Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight!
      For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night.
      TYBALT
      This, by his voice, should be a Montague.
      Fetch me my rapier, boy. What dares the slave
      Come hither, cover’d with an antic face,
      To fleer and scorn at our solemnity?
      Now, by the stock and honour of my kin,
      To strike him dead, I hold it not a sin.
      CAPULET
      Why, how now, kinsman! wherefore storm you so?
      TYBALT
      Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe,
      A villain that is hither come in spite,
      To scorn at our solemnity this night.
      CAPULET
      Young Romeo is it?
      TYBALT
      ‘Tis he, that villain Romeo.
      CAPULET
      Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone;
      He bears him like a portly gentleman;
      And, to say truth, Verona brags of him
      To be a virtuous and well-govern’d youth:
      I would not for the wealth of all the town
      Here in my house do him disparagement:
      Therefore be patient, take no note of him:
      It is my will, the which if thou respect,
      Show a fair presence and put off these frowns,
      And ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.
      TYBALT
      It fits, when such a villain is a guest:
      I’ll not endure him.
      CAPULET
      He shall be endured:
      What, goodman boy! I say, he shall: go to;
      Am I the master here, or you? go to.
      You’ll not endure him! God shall mend my soul!
      You’ll make a mutiny among my guests!
      You will set cock-a-hoop! you’ll be the man!
      TYBALT
      Why, uncle, ’tis a shame.
      CAPULET
      Go to, go to;
      You are a saucy boy: is’t so, indeed?
      This trick may chance to scathe you, I know what:
      You must contrary me! marry, ’tis time.
      Well said, my hearts! You are a princox; go:
      Be quiet, or–More light, more light! For shame!
      I’ll make you quiet. What, cheerly, my hearts!
      TYBALT
      Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting
      Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.
      I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall
      Now seeming sweet convert to bitter gall.
      Exit

      ROMEO
      [To JULIET] If I profane with my unworthiest hand
      This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:
      My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
      To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
      JULIET
      Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,
      Which mannerly devotion shows in this;
      For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch,
      And palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.
      ROMEO
      Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?
      JULIET
      Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.
      ROMEO
      O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;
      They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.
      JULIET
      Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.
      ROMEO
      Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take.
      Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.
      JULIET
      Then have my lips the sin that they have took.
      ROMEO
      Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged!
      Give me my sin again.
      JULIET
      You kiss by the book.
      Nurse
      Madam, your mother craves a word with you.
      ROMEO
      What is her mother?
      Nurse
      Marry, bachelor,
      Her mother is the lady of the house,
      And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous
      I nursed her daughter, that you talk’d withal;
      I tell you, he that can lay hold of her
      Shall have the chinks.
      ROMEO
      Is she a Capulet?
      O dear account! my life is my foe’s debt.
      BENVOLIO
      Away, begone; the sport is at the best.
      ROMEO
      Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest.
      CAPULET
      Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone;
      We have a trifling foolish banquet towards.
      Is it e’en so? why, then, I thank you all
      I thank you, honest gentlemen; good night.
      More torches here! Come on then, let’s to bed.
      Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late:
      I’ll to my rest.
      Exeunt all but JULIET and Nurse

      JULIET
      Come hither, nurse. What is yond gentleman?
      Nurse
      The son and heir of old Tiberio.
      JULIET
      What’s he that now is going out of door?
      Nurse
      Marry, that, I think, be young Petrucio.
      JULIET
      What’s he that follows there, that would not dance?
      Nurse
      I know not.
      JULIET
      Go ask his name: if he be married.
      My grave is like to be my wedding bed.
      Nurse
      His name is Romeo, and a Montague;
      The only son of your great enemy.
      JULIET
      My only love sprung from my only hate!
      Too early seen unknown, and known too late!
      Prodigious birth of love it is to me,
      That I must love a loathed enemy.
      Nurse
      What’s this? what’s this?
      JULIET
      A rhyme I learn’d even now
      Of one I danced withal.
      One calls within ‘Juliet.’

      Nurse
      Anon, anon!
      Come, let’s away; the strangers all are gone.
      Exeunt

      ACT II

      PROLOGUE

      Enter Chorus
      Chorus
      Now old desire doth in his death-bed lie,
      And young affection gapes to be his heir;
      That fair for which love groan’d for and would die,
      With tender Juliet match’d, is now not fair.
      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.
      Exit

      SCENE I. A lane by the wall of Capulet’s orchard.

      Enter ROMEO
      ROMEO
      Can I go forward when my heart is here?
      Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out.
      He climbs the wall, and leaps down within it

      Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO

      BENVOLIO
      Romeo! my cousin Romeo!
      MERCUTIO
      He is wise;
      And, on my lie, hath stol’n him home to bed.
      BENVOLIO
      He ran this way, and leap’d this orchard wall:
      Call, good Mercutio.
      MERCUTIO
      Nay, I’ll conjure too.
      Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover!
      Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh:
      Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied;
      Cry but ‘Ay me!’ pronounce but ‘love’ and ‘dove;’
      Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word,
      One nick-name for her purblind son and heir,
      Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim,
      When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid!
      He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not;
      The ape is dead, and I must conjure him.
      I conjure thee by Rosaline’s bright eyes,
      By her high forehead and her scarlet lip,
      By her fine foot, straight leg and quivering thigh
      And the demesnes that there adjacent lie,
      That in thy likeness thou appear to us!
      BENVOLIO
      And if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him.
      MERCUTIO
      This cannot anger him: ‘twould anger him
      To raise a spirit in his mistress’ circle
      Of some strange nature, letting it there stand
      Till she had laid it and conjured it down;
      That were some spite: my invocation
      Is fair and honest, and in his mistres s’ name
      I conjure only but to raise up him.
      BENVOLIO
      Come, he hath hid himself among these trees,
      To be consorted with the humorous night:
      Blind is his love and best befits the dark.
      MERCUTIO
      If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.
      Now will he sit under a medlar tree,
      And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit
      As maids call medlars, when they laugh alone.
      Romeo, that she were, O, that she were
      An open et caetera, thou a poperin pear!
      Romeo, good night: I’ll to my truckle-bed;
      This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep:
      Come, shall we go?
      BENVOLIO
      Go, then; for ’tis in vain
      To seek him here that means not to be found.
      Exeunt

      SCENE II. Capulet’s orchard.

      Enter ROMEO
      ROMEO
      He jests at scars that never felt a wound.
      JULIET appears above at a window

      But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?
      It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
      Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
      Who is already sick and pale with grief,
      That thou her maid art far more fair than she:
      Be not her maid, since she is envious;
      Her vestal livery is but sick and green
      And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.
      It is my lady, O, it is my love!
      O, that she knew she were!
      She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that?
      Her eye discourses; I will answer it.
      I am too bold, ’tis not to me she speaks:
      Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
      Having some business, do entreat her eyes
      To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
      What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
      The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,
      As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven
      Would through the airy region stream so bright
      That birds would sing and think it were not night.
      See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
      O, that I were a glove upon that hand,
      That I might touch that cheek!
      JULIET
      Ay me!
      ROMEO
      She speaks:
      O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art
      As glorious to this night, being o’er my head
      As is a winged messenger of heaven
      Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes
      Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him
      When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds
      And sails upon the bosom of the air.
      JULIET
      O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?
      Deny thy father and refuse thy name;
      Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
      And I’ll no longer be a Capulet.
      ROMEO
      [Aside] Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?
      JULIET
      ‘Tis but thy name that is my enemy;
      Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
      What’s Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,
      Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
      Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
      What’s in a name? that which we call a rose
      By any other name would smell as sweet;
      So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d,
      Retain that dear perfection which he owes
      Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,
      And for that name which is no part of thee
      Take all myself.

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    thee at thy word:
    Call me but love, and I’ll be new baptized;
    Henceforth I never will be Romeo.
    JULIET
    What man art thou that thus bescreen’d in night
    So stumblest on my counsel?
    ROMEO
    By a name
    I know not how to tell thee who I am:
    My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,
    Because it is an enemy to thee;
    Had I it written, I would tear the word.
    JULIET
    My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words
    Of that tongue’s utterance, yet I know the sound:
    Art thou not Romeo and a Montague?
    ROMEO
    Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike.
    JULIET
    How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?
    The orchard walls are high and hard to climb,
    And the place death, considering who thou art,
    If any of my kinsmen find thee here.
    ROMEO
    With love’s light wings did I o’er-perch these walls;
    For stony limits cannot hold love out,
    And what love can do that dares love attempt;
    Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me.
    JULIET
    If they do see thee, they will murder thee.
    ROMEO
    Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye
    Than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet,
    And I am proof against their enmity.
    JULIET
    I would not for the world they saw thee here.
    ROMEO
    I have night’s cloak to hide me from their sight;
    And but thou love me, let them find me here:
    My life were better ended by their hate,
    Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.
    JULIET
    By whose direction found’st thou out this place?
    ROMEO
    By love, who first did prompt me to inquire;
    He lent me counsel and I lent him eyes.
    I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far
    As that vast shore wash’d with the farthest sea,
    I would adventure for such merchandise.
    JULIET
    Thou know’st the mask of night is on my face,
    Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek
    For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night
    Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny
    What I have spoke: but farewell compliment!
    Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say ‘Ay,’
    And I will take thy word: yet if thou swear’st,
    Thou mayst prove false; at lovers’ perjuries
    Then say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,
    If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully:
    Or if thou think’st I am too quickly won,
    I’ll frown and be perverse an say thee nay,
    So thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world.
    In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond,
    And therefore thou mayst think my ‘havior light:
    But trust me, gentleman, I’ll prove more true
    Than those that have more cunning to be strange.
    I should have been more strange, I must confess,
    But that thou overheard’st, ere I was ware,
    My true love’s passion: therefore pardon me,
    And not impute this yielding to light love,
    Which the dark night hath so discovered.
    ROMEO
    Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear
    That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops–
    JULIET
    O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon,
    That monthly changes in her circled orb,
    Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.
    ROMEO
    What shall I swear by?
    JULIET
    Do not swear at all;
    Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self,
    Which is the god of my idolatry,
    And I’ll believe thee.
    ROMEO
    If my heart’s dear love–
    JULIET
    Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee,
    I have no joy of this contract to-night:
    It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden;
    Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be
    Ere one can say ‘It lightens.’ Sweet, good night!
    This bud of love, by summer’s ripening breath,
    May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.
    Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest
    Come to thy heart as that within my breast!
    ROMEO
    O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?
    JULIET
    What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?
    ROMEO
    The exchange of thy love’s faithful vow for mine.
    JULIET
    I gave thee mine before thou didst request it:
    And yet I would it were to give again.
    ROMEO
    Wouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love?
    JULIET
    But to be frank, and give it thee again.
    And yet I wish but for the thing I have:
    My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
    My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
    The more I have, for both are infinite.
    Nurse calls within

    I hear some noise within; dear love, adieu!
    Anon, good nurse! Sweet Montague, be true.
    Stay but a little, I will come again.
    Exit, above

    ROMEO
    O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard.
    Being in night, all this is but a dream,
    Too flattering-sweet to be substantial.
    Re-enter JULIET, above

    JULIET
    Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed.
    If that thy bent of love be honourable,
    Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow,
    By one that I’ll procure to come to thee,
    Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite;
    And all my fortunes at thy foot I’ll lay
    And follow thee my lord throughout the world.
    Nurse
    [Within] Madam!
    JULIET
    I come, anon.–But if thou mean’st not well,
    I do beseech thee–
    Nurse
    [Within] Madam!
    JULIET
    By and by, I come:–
    To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief:
    To-morrow will I send.
    ROMEO
    So thrive my soul–
    JULIET
    A thousand times good night!
    Exit, above

    ROMEO
    A thousand times the worse, to want thy light.
    Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from
    their books,
    But love from love, toward school with heavy looks.
    Retiring

    Re-enter JULIET, above

    JULIET
    Hist! Romeo, hist! O, for a falconer’s voice,
    To lure this tassel-gentle back again!
    Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud;
    Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies,
    And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine,
    With repetition of my Romeo’s name.
    ROMEO
    It is my soul that calls upon my name:
    How silver-sweet sound lovers’ tongues by night,
    Like softest music to attending ears!
    JULIET
    Romeo!
    ROMEO
    My dear?
    JULIET
    At what o’clock to-morrow
    Shall I send to thee?
    ROMEO
    At the hour of nine.
    JULIET
    I will not fail: ’tis twenty years till then.
    I have forgot why I did call thee back.
    ROMEO
    Let me stand here till thou remember it.
    JULIET
    I shall forget, to have thee still stand there,
    Remembering how I love thy company.
    ROMEO
    And I’ll still stay, to have thee still forget,
    Forgetting any other home but this.
    JULIET
    ‘Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone:
    And yet no further than a wanton’s bird;
    Who lets it hop a little from her hand,
    Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,
    And with a silk thread plucks it back again,
    So loving-jealous of his liberty.
    ROMEO
    I would I were thy bird.
    JULIET
    Sweet, so would I:
    Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.
    Good night, good night! parting is such
    sweet sorrow,
    That I shall say good night till it be morrow.
    Exit above

    ROMEO
    Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast!
    Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest!
    Hence will I to my ghostly father’s cell,
    His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell.
    Exit

    SCENE III. Friar Laurence’s cell.

    Enter FRIAR LAURENCE, with a basket
    FRIAR LAURENCE
    The grey-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night,
    Chequering the eastern clouds with streaks of light,
    And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels
    From forth day’s path and Titan’s fiery wheels:
    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.
    Enter ROMEO

    ROMEO
    Good morrow, father.
    FRIAR LAURENCE
    Benedicite!
    What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?
    Young son, it argues a distemper’d head
    So soon to bid good morrow to thy bed:
    Care keeps his watch in every old man’s eye,
    And where care lodges, sleep will never lie;
    But where unbruised youth with unstuff’d brain
    Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign:
    Therefore thy earliness doth me assure
    Thou art up-roused by some distemperature;
    Or if not so, then here I hit it right,
    Our Romeo hath not been in bed to-night.
    ROMEO
    That last is true; the sweeter rest was mine.
    FRIAR LAURENCE
    God pardon sin! wast thou with Rosaline?
    ROMEO
    With Rosaline, my ghostly father? no;
    I have forgot that name, and that name’s woe.
    FRIAR LAURENCE
    That’s my good son: but where hast thou been, then?
    ROMEO
    I’ll tell thee, ere thou ask it me again.
    I have been feasting with mine enemy,
    Where on a sudden one hath wounded me,
    That’s by me wounded: both our remedies
    Within thy help and holy physic lies:
    I bear no hatred, blessed man, for, lo,
    My intercession likewise steads my foe.
    FRIAR LAURENCE
    Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift;
    Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift.
    ROMEO
    Then plainly know my heart’s dear love is set
    On the fair daughter of rich Capulet:
    As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine;
    And all combined, save what thou must combine
    By holy marriage: when and where and how
    We met, we woo’d and made exchange of vow,
    I’ll tell thee as we pass; but this I pray,
    That thou consent to marry us to-day.
    FRIAR LAURENCE
    Holy Saint Francis, what a change is here!
    Is Rosaline, whom thou didst love so dear,
    So soon forsaken? young men’s love then lies
    Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.
    Jesu Maria, what a deal of brine
    Hath wash’d thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline!
    How much salt water thrown away in waste,
    To season love, that of it doth not taste!
    The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears,
    Thy old groans ring yet in my ancient ears;
    Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit
    Of an old tear that is not wash’d off yet:
    If e’er thou wast thyself and these woes thine,
    Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline:
    And art thou changed? pronounce this sentence then,
    Women may fall, when there’s no strength in men.
    ROMEO
    Thou chid’st me oft for loving Rosaline.
    FRIAR LAURENCE
    For doting, not for loving, pupil mine.
    ROMEO
    And bad’st me bury love.
    FRIAR LAURENCE
    Not in a grave,
    To lay one in, another out to have.
    ROMEO
    I pray thee, chide not; she whom I love now
    Doth grace for grace and love for love allow;
    The other did not so.
    FRIAR LAURENCE
    O, she knew well
    Thy love did read by rote and could not spell.
    But come, young waverer, come, go with me,
    In one respect I’ll thy assistant be;
    For this alliance may so happy prove,
    To turn your households’ rancour to pure love.
    ROMEO
    O, let us hence; I stand on sudden haste.
    FRIAR LAURENCE
    Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast.
    Exeunt

    SCENE IV. A street.

    Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO
    MERCUTIO
    Where the devil should this Romeo be?
    Came he not home to-night?
    BENVOLIO
    Not to his father’s; I spoke with his man.
    MERCUTIO
    Ah, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline.
    Torments him so, that he will sure run mad.
    BENVOLIO
    Tybalt, the kinsman of old Capulet,
    Hath sent a letter to his father’s house.
    MERCUTIO
    A challenge, on my life.
    BENVOLIO
    Romeo will answer it.
    MERCUTIO
    Any man that can write may answer a letter.
    BENVOLIO
    Nay, he will answer the letter’s master, how he
    dares, being dared.
    MERCUTIO
    Alas poor Romeo! he is already dead; stabbed with a
    white wench’s black eye; shot through the ear with a
    love-song; the very pin of his heart cleft with the
    blind bow-boy’s butt-shaft: and is he a man to
    encounter Tybalt?
    BENVOLIO
    Why, what is Tybalt?
    MERCUTIO

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    0

    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: the very butcher of a silk
    button, a duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of the
    very first house, of the first and second cause:
    ah, the immortal passado! the punto reverso! the
    hai!
    BENVOLIO
    The what?
    MERCUTIO
    The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting
    fantasticoes; these new tuners of accents! ‘By Jesu,
    a very good blade! a very tall man! a very good
    whore!’ Why, is not this a lamentable thing,
    grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with
    these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these
    perdona-mi’s, who stand so much on the new form,
    that they cannot at ease on the old bench? O, their
    bones, their bones!
    Enter ROMEO

    BENVOLIO
    Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo.
    MERCUTIO
    Without his roe, like a dried herring: flesh, flesh,
    how art thou fishified! Now is he for the numbers
    that Petrarch flowed in: Laura to his lady was but a
    kitchen-wench; marry, she had a better love to
    be-rhyme her; Dido a dowdy; Cleopatra a gipsy;
    Helen and Hero hildings and harlots; Thisbe a grey
    eye or so, but not to the purpose. Signior
    Romeo, bon jour! there’s a French salutation
    to your French slop. You gave us the counterfeit
    fairly last night.
    ROMEO
    Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you?
    MERCUTIO
    The ship, sir, the slip; can you not conceive?
    ROMEO
    Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was great; and in
    such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy.
    MERCUTIO
    That’s as much as to say, such a case as yours
    constrains a man to bow in the hams.
    ROMEO
    Meaning, to court’sy.
    MERCUTIO
    Thou hast most kindly hit it.
    ROMEO
    A most courteous exposition.
    MERCUTIO
    Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy.
    ROMEO
    Pink for flower.
    MERCUTIO
    Right.
    ROMEO
    Why, then is my pump well flowered.
    MERCUTIO
    Well said: follow me this jest now till thou hast
    worn out thy pump, that when the single sole of it
    is worn, the jest may remain after the wearing sole singular.
    ROMEO
    O single-soled jest, solely singular for the
    singleness.
    MERCUTIO
    Come between us, good Benvolio; my wits faint.
    ROMEO
    Switch and spurs, switch and spurs; or I’ll cry a match.
    MERCUTIO
    Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, I have
    done, for thou hast more of the wild-goose in one of
    thy wits than, I am sure, I have in my whole five:
    was I with you there for the goose?
    ROMEO
    Thou wast never with me for any thing when thou wast
    not there for the goose.
    MERCUTIO
    I will bite thee by the ear for that jest.
    ROMEO
    Nay, good goose, bite not.
    MERCUTIO
    Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most
    sharp sauce.
    ROMEO
    And is it not well served in to a sweet goose?
    MERCUTIO
    O here’s a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an
    inch narrow to an ell broad!
    ROMEO
    I stretch it out for that word ‘broad;’ which added
    to the goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose.
    MERCUTIO
    Why, is not this better now than groaning for love?
    now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; now art
    thou what thou art, by art as well as by nature:
    for this drivelling love is like a great natural,
    that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in a hole.
    BENVOLIO
    Stop there, stop there.
    MERCUTIO
    Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair.
    BENVOLIO
    Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large.
    MERCUTIO
    O, thou art deceived; I would have made it short:
    for I was come to the whole depth of my tale; and
    meant, indeed, to occupy the argument no longer.
    ROMEO
    Here’s goodly gear!
    Enter Nurse and PETER

    MERCUTIO
    A sail, a sail!
    BENVOLIO
    Two, two; a shirt and a smock.
    Nurse
    Peter!
    PETER
    Anon!
    Nurse
    My fan, Peter.
    MERCUTIO
    Good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan’s the
    fairer face.
    Nurse
    God ye good morrow, gentlemen.
    MERCUTIO
    God ye good den, fair gentlewoman.
    Nurse
    Is it good den?
    MERCUTIO
    ‘Tis no less, I tell you, for the bawdy hand of the
    dial is now upon the prick of noon.
    Nurse
    Out upon you! what a man are you!
    ROMEO
    One, gentlewoman, that God hath made for himself to
    mar.
    Nurse
    By my troth, it is well said; ‘for himself to mar,’
    quoth a’? Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I
    may find the young Romeo?
    ROMEO
    I can tell you; but young Romeo will be older when
    you have found him than he was when you sought him:
    I am the youngest of that name, for fault of a worse.
    Nurse
    You say well.
    MERCUTIO
    Yea, is the worst well? very well took, i’ faith;
    wisely, wisely.
    Nurse
    if you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with
    you.
    BENVOLIO
    She will indite him to some supper.
    MERCUTIO
    A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! so ho!
    ROMEO
    What hast thou found?
    MERCUTIO
    No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie,
    that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent.
    Sings

    An old hare hoar,
    And an old hare hoar,
    Is very good meat in lent
    But a hare that is hoar
    Is too much for a score,
    When it hoars ere it be spent.
    Romeo, will you come to your father’s? we’ll
    to dinner, thither.
    ROMEO
    I will follow you.
    MERCUTIO
    Farewell, ancient lady; farewell,
    Singing

    ‘lady, lady, lady.’
    Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO

    Nurse
    Marry, farewell! I pray you, sir, what saucy
    merchant was this, that was so full of his ropery?
    ROMEO
    A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself talk,
    and will speak more in a minute than he will stand
    to in a month.
    Nurse
    An a’ speak any thing against me, I’ll take him
    down, an a’ were lustier than he is, and twenty such
    Jacks; and if I cannot, I’ll find those that shall.
    Scurvy knave! I am none of his flirt-gills; I am
    none of his skains-mates. And thou must stand by
    too, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure?
    PETER
    I saw no man use you a pleasure; if I had, my weapon
    should quickly have been out, I warrant you: I dare
    draw as soon as another man, if I see occasion in a
    good quarrel, and the law on my side.
    Nurse
    Now, afore God, I am so vexed, that every part about
    me quivers. Scurvy knave! Pray you, sir, a word:
    and as I told you, my young lady bade me inquire you
    out; what she bade me say, I will keep to myself:
    but first let me tell ye, if ye should lead her into
    a fool’s paradise, as they say, it were a very gross
    kind of behavior, as they say: for the gentlewoman
    is young; and, therefore, if you should deal double
    with her, truly it were an ill thing to be offered
    to any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing.
    ROMEO
    Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress. I
    protest unto thee–
    Nurse
    Good heart, and, i’ faith, I will tell her as much:
    Lord, Lord, she will be a joyful woman.
    ROMEO
    What wilt thou tell her, nurse? thou dost not mark me.
    Nurse
    I will tell her, sir, that you do protest; which, as
    I take it, is a gentlemanlike offer.
    ROMEO
    Bid her devise
    Some means to come to shrift this afternoon;
    And there she shall at Friar Laurence’ cell
    Be shrived and married. Here is for thy pains.
    Nurse
    No truly sir; not a penny.
    ROMEO
    Go to; I say you shall.
    Nurse
    This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there.
    ROMEO
    And stay, good nurse, behind the abbey wall:
    Within this hour my man shall be with thee
    And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair;
    Which to the high top-gallant of my joy
    Must be my convoy in the secret night.
    Farewell; be trusty, and I’ll quit thy pains:
    Farewell; commend me to thy mistress.
    Nurse
    Now God in heaven bless thee! Hark you, sir.
    ROMEO
    What say’st thou, my dear nurse?
    Nurse
    Is your man secret? Did you ne’er hear say,
    Two may keep counsel, putting one away?
    ROMEO
    I warrant thee, my man’s as true as steel.
    NURSE
    Well, sir; my mistress is the sweetest lady–Lord,
    Lord! when ’twas a little prating thing:–O, there
    is a nobleman in town, one Paris, that would fain
    lay knife aboard; but she, good soul, had as lief
    see a toad, a very toad, as see him. I anger her
    sometimes and tell her that Paris is the properer
    man; but, I’ll warrant you, when I say so, she looks
    as pale as any clout in the versal world. Doth not
    rosemary and Romeo begin both with a letter?
    ROMEO
    Ay, nurse; what of that? both with an R.
    Nurse
    Ah. mocker! that’s the dog’s name; R is for
    the–No; I know it begins with some other
    letter:–and she hath the prettiest sententious of
    it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you good
    to hear it.
    ROMEO
    Commend me to thy lady.
    Nurse
    Ay, a thousand times.
    Exit Romeo

    Peter!
    PETER
    Anon!
    Nurse
    Peter, take my fan, and go before and apace.
    Exeunt

    SCENE V. Capulet’s orchard.

    Enter JULIET
    JULIET
    The clock struck nine when I did send the nurse;
    In half an hour she promised to return.
    Perchance she cannot meet him: that’s not so.
    O, she is lame! love’s heralds should be thoughts,
    Which ten times faster glide than the sun’s beams,
    Driving back shadows over louring hills:
    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!
    Enter Nurse and PETER

    O honey nurse, what news?
    Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away.
    Nurse
    Peter, stay at the gate.
    Exit PETER

    JULIET
    Now, good sweet nurse,–O Lord, why look’st thou sad?
    Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily;
    If good, thou shamest the music of sweet news
    By playing it to me with so sour a face.
    Nurse
    I am a-weary, give me leave awhile:
    Fie, how my bones ache! what a jaunt have I had!
    JULIET
    I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news:
    Nay, come, I pray thee, speak; good, good nurse, speak.
    Nurse
    Jesu, what haste? can you not stay awhile?
    Do you not see that I am out of breath?
    JULIET
    How art thou out of breath, when thou hast breath
    To say to me that thou art out of breath?
    The excuse that thou dost make in this delay
    Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse.
    Is thy news good, or bad? answer to that;
    Say either, and I’ll stay the circumstance:
    Let me be satisfied, is’t good or bad?
    Nurse
    Well, you have made a simple choice; you know not
    how to choose a man: Romeo! no, not he; though his
    face be better than any man’s, yet his leg excels
    all men’s; and for a hand, and a foot, and a body,
    though they be not to be talked on, yet they are
    past compare: he is not the flower of courtesy,
    but, I’ll warrant him, as gentle as a lamb. Go thy
    ways, wench; serve God. What, have you dined at home?
    JULIET
    No, no: but all this did I know before.
    What says he of our marriage? what of that?
    Nurse
    Lord, how my head aches! what a head have I!
    It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces.
    My back o’ t’ other side,–O, my back, my back!
    Beshrew your heart for sending me about,
    To catch my death with jaunting up and down!
    JULIET
    I’ faith, I am sorry that thou art not well.
    Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love?
    Nurse
    Your love says, like an honest gentleman, and a
    courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, and, I
    warrant, a virtuous,–Where is your mother?
    JULIET
    Where is my mother! why, she is within;
    Where should she be? How oddly thou repliest!
    ‘Your love says, like an honest gentleman,
    Where is your mother?’
    Nurse
    O God’s lady dear!
    Are you so hot? marry, come up, I trow;
    Is this the poultice for my aching bones?
    Henceforward do your messages yourself.
    JULIET
    Here’s such a coil! come, what says Romeo?
    Nurse
    Have you got leave to go to shrift to-day?
    JULIET
    I have.
    Nurse
    Then hie you hence to Friar Laurence’ cell;
    There stays a husband to make you a wife:
    Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks,
    They’ll be in scarlet straight at any news.
    Hie you to church; I must another way,
    To fetch a ladder, by the which your love
    Must climb a bird’s nest soon when it is dark:
    I am the drudge and toil in your delight,
    But you shall bear the burden soon at night.
    Go; I’ll to dinner: hie you to the cell.
    JULIET
    Hie to high fortune! Honest nurse, farewell.
    Exeunt

    SCENE VI. Friar Laurence’s cell.

    Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and ROMEO
    FRIAR LAURENCE
    So smile the heavens upon this holy act,
    That after hours with sorrow chide us not!
    ROMEO
    Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can,
    It cannot countervail the exchange of joy
    That one short minute gives me in her sight:
    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.

  6. 0

    0

    and
    urine. Lechery, sir, it provokes, and unprovokes;
    it provokes the desire, but it takes
    away the performance: therefore, much drink
    may be said to be an equivocator with lechery:
    it makes him, and it mars him; it sets
    him on, and it takes him off; it persuades him,
    and disheartens him; makes him stand to, and
    not stand to; in conclusion, equivocates him
    in a sleep, and, giving him the lie, leaves him.
    MACDUFF
    I believe drink gave thee the lie last night.
    Porter
    That it did, sir, i’ the very throat on
    me: but I requited him for his lie; and, I
    think, being too strong for him, though he took
    up my legs sometime, yet I made a shift to cast
    him.
    MACDUFF
    Is thy master stirring?
    Enter MACBETH

    Our knocking has awaked him; here he comes.
    LENNOX
    Good morrow, noble sir.
    MACBETH
    Good morrow, both.
    MACDUFF
    Is the king stirring, worthy thane?
    MACBETH
    Not yet.
    MACDUFF
    He did command me to call timely on him:
    I have almost slipp’d the hour.
    MACBETH
    I’ll bring you to him.
    MACDUFF
    I know this is a joyful trouble to you;
    But yet ’tis one.
    MACBETH
    The labour we delight in physics pain.
    This is the door.
    MACDUFF
    I’ll make so bold to call,
    For ’tis my limited service.
    Exit

    LENNOX
    Goes the king hence to-day?
    MACBETH
    He does: he did appoint so.
    LENNOX
    The night has been unruly: where we lay,
    Our chimneys were blown down; and, as they say,
    Lamentings heard i’ the air; strange screams of death,
    And prophesying with accents terrible
    Of dire combustion and confused events
    New hatch’d to the woeful time: the obscure bird
    Clamour’d the livelong night: some say, the earth
    Was feverous and did shake.
    MACBETH
    ‘Twas a rough night.
    LENNOX
    My young remembrance cannot parallel
    A fellow to it.
    Re-enter MACDUFF

    MACDUFF
    O horror, horror, horror! Tongue nor heart
    Cannot conceive nor name thee!
    MACBETH LENNOX
    What’s the matter.
    MACDUFF
    Confusion now hath made his masterpiece!
    Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope
    The Lord’s anointed temple, and stole thence
    The life o’ the building!
    MACBETH
    What is ‘t you say? the life?
    LENNOX
    Mean you his majesty?
    MACDUFF
    Approach the chamber, and destroy your sight
    With a new Gorgon: do not bid me speak;
    See, and then speak yourselves.
    Exeunt MACBETH and LENNOX

    Awake, awake!
    Ring the alarum-bell. Murder and treason!
    Banquo and Donalbain! Malcolm! awake!
    Shake off this downy sleep, death’s counterfeit,
    And look on death itself! up, up, and see
    The great doom’s image! Malcolm! Banquo!
    As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprites,
    To countenance this horror! Ring the bell.
    Bell rings

    Enter LADY MACBETH

    LADY MACBETH
    What’s the business,
    That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley
    The sleepers of the house? speak, speak!
    MACDUFF
    O gentle lady,
    ‘Tis not for you to hear what I can speak:
    The repetition, in a woman’s ear,
    Would murder as it fell.
    Enter BANQUO

    O Banquo, Banquo,
    Our royal master ‘s murder’d!
    LADY MACBETH
    Woe, alas!
    What, in our house?
    BANQUO
    Too cruel any where.
    Dear Duff, I prithee, contradict thyself,
    And say it is not so.
    Re-enter MACBETH and LENNOX, with ROSS

    MACBETH
    Had I but died an hour before this chance,
    I had lived a blessed time; for, from this instant,
    There ‘s nothing serious in mortality:
    All is but toys: renown and grace is dead;
    The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees
    Is left this vault to brag of.
    Enter MALCOLM and DONALBAIN

    DONALBAIN
    What is amiss?
    MACBETH
    You are, and do not know’t:
    The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood
    Is stopp’d; the very source of it is stopp’d.
    MACDUFF
    Your royal father ‘s murder’d.
    MALCOLM
    O, by whom?
    LENNOX
    Those of his chamber, as it seem’d, had done ‘t:
    Their hands and faces were an badged with blood;
    So were their daggers, which unwiped we found
    Upon their pillows:
    They stared, and were distracted; no man’s life
    Was to be trusted with them.
    MACBETH
    O, yet I do repent me of my fury,
    That I did kill them.
    MACDUFF
    Wherefore did you so?
    MACBETH
    Who can be wise, amazed, temperate and furious,
    Loyal and neutral, in a moment? No man:
    The expedition my violent love
    Outrun the pauser, reason. Here lay Duncan,
    His silver skin laced with his golden blood;
    And his gash’d stabs look’d like a breach in nature
    For ruin’s wasteful entrance: there, the murderers,
    Steep’d in the colours of their trade, their daggers
    Unmannerly breech’d with gore: who could refrain,
    That had a heart to love, and in that heart
    Courage to make ‘s love kno wn?
    LADY MACBETH
    Help me hence, ho!
    MACDUFF
    Look to the lady.
    MALCOLM
    [Aside to DONALBAIN] Why do we hol

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