Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood asany in Italy, and as soon moved to be moody, and assoon moody to be moved.
Thou art like one of those fellows that when heenters the confines of a tavern claps me his swordupon the table and says 'God send me no need ofthee!' and by the operation of the second cup drawsit on the drawer, when indeed there is no need.
Am i like such a fellow?
O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness!Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind prince,Taking thy part, hath rush'd aside the law,And turn'd that black word death to banishment:This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not.
There is no world without Verona walls,But purgatory, torture, hell itself.Hence-banished is banish'd from the world,And world's exile is death: then banished,Is death mis-term'd: calling death banishment,Thou cutt'st my head off with a golden axe,And smilest upon the stroke that murders me.
Good father, I beseech you on my knees,Hear me with patience but to speak a word.
Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient wretch!I tell thee what: get thee to church o' Thursday,Or never after look me in the face:Speak not, reply not, do not answer me;
I will confess to you that i love him.
Do not deny to him that you love me
Thy face is mine, and thou hast slander'd it
O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught,Environed with all these hideous fears?And madly play with my forefather's 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! me thinks I see my cousin's ghost Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body Upon a rapier's point: stay, Tybalt, stay!Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee.
Sir, go you in; and, madam, go with him;And go, Sir Paris; every one prepareTo follow this fair corse unto her grave:The heavens do lour upon you for some ill;Move them no more by crossing their high will