Romeo and Juliet 2
Storyboard Text
- God's bread! It makes me mad: Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play, alone, in company, still my care hath been to have her match'd: and having now provided a gentleman of noble parentage, of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd, stuff'd as they say, with honourable parts, 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." But as you will not wed, I'll pardon you: graze where you will you shall not housd 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; and you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in the streets, for by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee.
- Is there no pity sitting in the clouds, 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.
- Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word: Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee.
- Speak not, reply not, do not answer me; my fingers itch. Wife, we scarce thought us blest that got had lent us bit this only child; but ow I see this one is too much, and that we have a curse in having her: Out on her, hiding!
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