LADY CAPULET:
Here comes your father. Tell him so yourself, And see how he will take it at your hands.
LADY CAPULET:
Here comes your father. Tell him so yourself, And see how he will take it from you.
Enter Capulet and Nurse.
CAPULET:
When the sun sets the air doth drizzle dew, But for the sunset of my brother's son(130) It rains downright.
How now? a conduit, girl? What, still in tears? Evermore show'ring? In one little body Thou counterfeit'st a bark, a sea, a wind: For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea,(135) 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?(140) Have you delivered to her our decree?
CAPULET:
When the sun sets, the air drizzles dew, But for the funeral of my brother's son It pours rain.
What’s going on? Still a fountain, girl? What, still in tears? Forever showering? In one little body,
You look like a ship, a sea, a wind, all in one, Because your eyes, which I may call the sea,
Ebb and flow with a tide of tears. Your body is the ship, Sailing in this salt flood, the winds, your sighs.
You, raging with your tears and they with the ship, sea, and wind, Without a sudden calm, will overturn
Your tempest-tossed body. What’s going on, wife! Have you told her what we have decided for her?
LADY CAPULET:
Ay, sir; but she will none, she gives you thanks. I would the fool were married to her grave!
LADY CAPULET:
Yes, sir; but she won’t have it. She gives you thanks. I wish the foolish girl were married to her grave!
CAPULET:
Soft! take me with you, take me with you, wife.
How? Will she none? Doth she not give us thanks?(145) Is she not proud? Doth she not count her blest,
CAPULET:
What! Catch me, catch me, wife.
Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom?
Unworthy as she is, we have secured
So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom?
JULIET:
Not proud you have, but thankful that you have. Proud can I never be of what I hate,(150) But thankful even for hate that is meant love.
JULIET
I’m not proud that you have, but I’m thankful that you have. I can never be proud of what I hate,
But I can be thankful even for hate that is meant to be love.
LADY CAPULET:
Fie, fie! what, are you mad?
LADY CAPULET:
For shame, for shame! What, are you crazy?
JULIET:
Good father, I beseech you on my knees, Hear me with patience but to speak a word.
JULIET:
Good father, I beg you on my knees,
To listen to me with patience. I only want to speak a word.
CAPULET:
Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient wretch! I tell thee what—get thee to church a Thursday(165) 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,(170) And that we have a curse in having her. Out on her, hilding!
CAPULET:
I’ll see you hang first, young filth! Disobedient wretch! I’ll tell you what. Get yourself to church on Thursday, Or never, after that, look me in the face.
Don’t speak, don’t reply, don’t answer me.
My fingers itch. Wife, we were just thinking ourselves blessed That God had given us this only child,
But now I see that this one is one too many, And that we are cursed in having her. Throw her out, the good for nothing!
NURSE:
God in heaven bless her!
NURSE:
You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so. You are to blame, my lord, to berate her like this.
CAPULET:
And why, my Lady Wisdom? Hold your tongue,(175) Good Prudence. Smatter with your gossips, go!
CAPULET:
And why are you butting in, my lady wisdom? Hold your tongue, Good prudence; go chat with your gossips!
NURSE:
I speak no treason.
NURSE:
I’m not telling a lie.
CAPULET:
O, God-i-god-en!
CAPULET:
O, God! You! Good night!
NURSE:
May not one speak?
NURSE:
Can’t someone speak?
CAPULET:
Peace, you mumbling fool!(180) Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl, For here we need it not.
CAPULET:
Peace, you mumbling fool!
Talk about your serious speech over a gossip's bowl, Because we don’t need it here!.
LADY CAPULET:
You are too hot.
LADY CAPULET:
You are too hot under the collar.
CAPULET:
God's bread! It makes me mad.
Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play,(185)
CAPULET:
Alone, in company, still my care hath been To have her match'd; and having now provided A gentleman of princely parentage,
Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd, Stuff'd, as they say, with honourable parts,(190) Proportion'd 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’!(195) But, an 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;(200) An 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.
Exit.
Alone, or in company, still my main concern has been
To have her matched to a good man, and now having provided A gentleman of noble parentage,
Of beautiful lands and estates, youthful, and with noble manners, Stuffed, as they say, with honorable parts,
Proportioned as woman's heart would wish a man to be built, And then to have a wretched fool, crying like a baby,
A whining child, in her luck’s best offer, To answer, “I'll not wed, I cannot love, I am too young, I pray you pardon me.” But, if you will not wed, I'll pardon you. Eat where you can, you won’t live with me. Look to it. Think on it, I’m not joking. Thursday is near; swear to me, tell me. If you are mine, I'll give you to my friend;
If you aren’t, go hang yourself, beg, starve, die in the streets, Because, by my soul, I'll never acknowledge you exist, And you will cut off from your inheritance.
Trust to it. Think about it. You won’t make a liar out of me.
JULIET:
Is there no pity sitting in the clouds(205) 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.(210)
JULIET:
LADY CAPULET:
Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word. Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee.
LADY CAPULET:
Don’t talk to me, because I won’t answer you.
Do what you want to do, because I’m finished with you.
Exit.
CAPULET:
How, how, how, how, choplogic? 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,(155) 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!(160)
CAPULET:
So that’s how it is now, arguing with choppy reasoning? What is this? ”Proud,” and, “I thank you,” and “I thank you not,”
And yet “not proud?” Mistress Darling, you --Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds, But get your fine joints ready for next Thursday To go with Paris to Saint Peter's Church,
