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ROMEO AND JULIET ONLINE BOOK

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An unparalleled collection of early modern books, manuscripts, and artwork Until now, with the release of the Folger Digital Texts, readers in search of a free online The prologue of Romeo and Juliet calls the title characters “star-crossed . The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare Read this book online: Generated HTML (with images), //ronaldweinland.info Free kindle book and epub digitized and proofread by Project Roméo et Juliette by William Shakespeare Read this book online: HTML.


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The traces of the smallest spider's web, Enter CAPULET, with JULIET and others of his house, meeting the Guests and Maskers . You kiss by the book. Yes Book Please | Download free eBooks with direct links without registration / c%2ftrack%2fl%2fbookrix%2f_ebook-william-shakespeare-romeo-and-juliet. Romeo and Juliet. by William Shakespeare. Read Romeo and Juliet online here for free. William Shakespeare eBooks can be downloadd at ronaldweinland.info for.

CHORUS CHORUS Two households, both alike in dignity In the beautiful city of Verona, where our story In fair Verona, where we lay our scene , takes place, a long-standing hatred between two From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, families erupts into new violence, and citizens Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. Two unlucky children of these enemy A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life, families become lovers and commit suicide. Their Whose misadventured piteous overthrows unfortunate deaths put an end to their parents' Doth with their death bury their parents' strife. What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend. No, for then we should be colliers.

Love that comes O heavy lightness, serious vanity, from nothing!

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Sad happiness! Serious Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms! Beautiful things muddled together Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health, into an ugly mess! Love is heavy and light, bright Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is! This Dost thou not laugh? Are you laughing? If you frustrate Being vexed, a sea nourished with loving tears. What is it else? A madness most discreet, What else is love?

Farewell, my coz. Goodbye, cousin. I will go along. And if you leave me so, you do me wrong. I am not here.

Romeo and Juliet

What, shall I groan and tell thee? You mean I should groan and tell Groan! Why, no. But sadly, tell me who. But tell me seriously who it is. A sick man in sadness makes his will, Seriously, cousin, I love a woman. A word ill urged to one that is so ill.

Then you were right on target. The woman I love is beautiful. Well, in that hit you miss. Diana, and shielded by the armor of chastity. Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste? If you starve yourself of sex Cuts beauty off from all posterity. Forget to think of her. Take my advice. Do it by letting your eyes wander freely.

Look at Examine other beauties.

Beautiful women like to wear To call hers exquisite, in question more. Show me a really The precious treasure of his eyesight lost.

Her beauty is like a note telling me where I can see someone even more beautiful. What doth her beauty serve but as a note Where I may read who passed that passing fair?

Thou canst not teach me to forget. They exit. But what do you say to my request? My She hath not seen the change of fourteen years. Girls younger than she often marry and become happy mothers. Girls who marry so young grow up too soon. My permission is only part of her My will to her consent is but a part. If she agrees to marry you, my blessing An she agreed within her scope of choice, and fair words will confirm her choice.

And you among the store, list. At my humble house tonight, you can expect One more, most welcome, makes my number more. Look at anyone you like, and Of limping winter treads. Even such delight choose whatever woman seems best to you.

Among fresh fennel buds shall you this night Once you see a lot of girls, you might not think30 Inherit at my house.

Come along And like her most whose merit most shall be— with me. Which on more view of many, mine, being one, May stand in number, though in reckoning none, to PETER, handing him a paper Go, little fellow, Come, go with me. Through fair Verona. It My house and welcome on their pleasure stay. It is read! But here come some people, right in the nick pencil and the painter with his nets. But I am sent to of time.

I must to the learned in good time! A new pain will make the one you already have seem less. A new grief will put the old one out of your mind. Take thou some new infection to thy eye,50 And the rank poison of the old will die. For what, I pray thee? For when you cut your shin. Romeo, are you crazy? I pray, sir, can you read?

May God give you a good evening. But I pray, can you read anything you see? Rest you merry. But please tell me, can you read anything you see? I can read. Have a nice Mercutio and his brother Valentine; day.

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Where are they Lucio and the lively Helena. A fair assembly. Whither should they come? To supper? To our house. Whose house? Indeed, I should have asked you before who he was. My Montagues, I pray come and crush a cup of wine. Have a nice day! A woman more beautiful than the One fairer than my love? The all-seeing sun one I love? The sun itself has never seen anyone95 Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun.

There was no But in that crystal scales let there be weighed one to compare her to except herself. Call her forth to me. What, lamb! What, ladybird! Come on! Where is God forbid! What, Juliet! What is she doing? What is it? Your mother. What is your will? What do you want?

We must talk privately—10 I have remembered me. Nurse, come back here. You know how young my daughter is. How long is it until Lammastide? Christian souls—were born on the same day. She was too Were of an age. Well, Susan is with God. But like I said, on the night of She was too good for me. But, as I said, Lammas Eve, she will be fourteen.

Yes, she will. On Lammas Eve at night shall she be fourteen. Indeed, I remember it well. Marry, I remember it well. She stopped nursing from 25 'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years, my breast on that very day.

I And she was weaned—I never shall forget it— had put bitter wormwood on my breast as I was Of all the days of the year, upon that day. You and your husband were in Sitting in the sun under the dovehouse wall. Boy, do I have some memory!

But like I 30 My lord and you were then at Mantua. Then the Of my dug and felt it bitter, pretty fool, dovehouse shook with the earthquake. There was To see it tetchy and fall out with the dug! By then she could stand up all To bid me trudge.

No, I swear, by that time she could run And since that time it is eleven years, and waddle all around. I remember because she For then she could stand alone.

Nay, by the rood, had cut her forehead just the day before. My She could have run and waddled all about, 40 For even the day before, she broke her brow.

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I bet if I live a To see now, how a jest shall come about! And the pretty fool stopped crying I never should forget it. Please be quiet.

I pray thee, hold thy peace. It was a painful bruise, and And yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow she was crying bitterly. Wilt thou not, Jule? You were the prettiest baby I Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace!

If I live to see you get married Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nursed. An I might live to see thee married once, I have my wish. I came to talk of. It is an honor that I do not dream of. An honor! Were not I thine only nurse, 70 I would say thou hadst sucked wisdom from thy teat. Younger than you from noble families—who have already become Here in Verona, ladies of esteem mothers. By my count, I was already your mother Are made already mothers. By my count, at just about your age, while you remain a virgin.

Thus then in brief: wants you as his bride. The valiant Paris seeks you for his love. Lady, such a man any in the whole world. Summertime in Verona has no flower as fine as him. Second Servant When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's hands and they unwashed too, 'tis a foul thing.

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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.

Romeo and Juliet

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!

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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.

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 need'st not to be gone.

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!