<SPEECH 1><ACT 1><SCENE 1><3%>
<CAPULET>	<3%>
	What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho!
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 2><ACT 1><SCENE 1><3%>
<CAPULET>	<3%>
	My sword, I say! Old Montague is come,
	And flourishes his blade in spite of me.

</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 3><ACT 1><SCENE 2><8%>
<CAPULET>	<9%>
	But Montague is bound as well as I,
	In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think,
	For men so old as we to keep the peace.
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 4><ACT 1><SCENE 2><9%>
<CAPULET>	<9%>
	But saying o'er what I have said before:
	My child is yet a stranger in the world,
	She hath not seen the change of fourteen years;
	Let two more summers wither in their pride
	Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride.
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 5><ACT 1><SCENE 2><9%>
<CAPULET>	<9%>
	And too soon marr'd are those so early made.
	Earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she,
	She is the hopeful lady of my earth:
	But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,
	My will to her consent is but a part;
	An she agree, within her scope of choice
	Lies my consent and fair according voice.
	This night I hold an old accustom'd feast,
	Whereto I have invited many a guest
	Such as I love; and you, among the store,
	One more, most welcome, makes my number more.
	At my poor house look to behold this night
	Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light:
	Such comfort as do lusty young men feel
	When well-apparel'd April on the heel
	Of limping winter treads, even such delight
	Among fresh female buds shall you this night
	Inherit at my house; hear all, all see,
	And like her most whose merit most shall be:
	Which on more view, of many mine being one
	May stand in number, though in reckoning none.
	Come, go with me. <STAGE DIR>
<To Servant, giving him a paper.>
</STAGE DIR> Go, sirrah, trudge about
	Through fair Verona; find those persons out
	Whose names are written there, and to them say,
	My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 6><ACT 1><SCENE 5><20%>
<CAPULET>	<20%>
	Welcome, gentlemen! ladies that have their toes
	Unplagu'd with corns will walk 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.
<STAGE DIR>
<Music plays, and they dance.>
</STAGE DIR>
	More light, ye knaves! and turn the tables up,
	And quench the fire, the room has 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?
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 7><ACT 1><SCENE 5><20%>
<CAPULET>	<20%>
	What, man! 'tis not so much, 'tis not so much:
	'Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio,
	Come Pentecost as quickly as it will,
	Some five and twenty years; and then we mask'd.
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 8><ACT 1><SCENE 5><20%>
<CAPULET>	<21%>
	Will you tell me that?
	His son was but a ward two years ago.
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 9><ACT 1><SCENE 5><21%>
<CAPULET>	<21%>
	Why, how now, kinsman! wherefore storm you so?
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 10><ACT 1><SCENE 5><21%>
<CAPULET>	<21%>
	Young Romeo, is it?
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 11><ACT 1><SCENE 5><21%>
<CAPULET>	<21%>
	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 this 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,
	An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 12><ACT 1><SCENE 5><21%>
<CAPULET>	<22%>
	He shall be endur'd:
	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!
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 13><ACT 1><SCENE 5><22%>
<CAPULET>	<22%>
	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!
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 14><ACT 1><SCENE 5><23%>
<CAPULET>	<23%>
	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.
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 15><ACT 3><SCENE 4><63%>
<CAPULET>	<63%>
	Things have fall'n out, sir, so unluckily,
	That we have had no time to move our daughter:
	Look you, she lov'd her kinsman Tybalt dearly,
	And so did I: well, we were born to die.
	'Tis very late, she'll not come down to night:
	I promise you, but for your company,
	I would have been a-bed an hour ago.
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 16><ACT 3><SCENE 4><63%>
<CAPULET>	<63%>
	Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender
	Of my child's love: I think she will be rul'd
	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! what day is this?
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 17><ACT 3><SCENE 4><63%>
<CAPULET>	<63%>
	Monday! ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon;
	O' Thursday let it be: o' Thursday, tell her,
	She shall be married to this noble earl.
	Will you be ready? do you like this haste?
	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?
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 18><ACT 3><SCENE 4><63%>
<CAPULET>	<64%>
	Well, get you gone: o' Thursday be it then.
	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! it is so very very late,
	That we may call it early by and by.
	Good-night.
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 19><ACT 3><SCENE 5><68%>
<CAPULET>	<68%>
	When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle dew;
	But for the sunset of my brother's son
	It rains downright.
	How now! a conduit, girl? what! still in tears?
	Evermore showering? In one little body
	Thou counterfeit'st a bark, a sea, a wind;
	For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea,
	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!
	Have you deliver'd to her our decree?
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 20><ACT 3><SCENE 5><68%>
<CAPULET>	<69%>
	Soft! take me with you, take me with you, wife.
	How! will she none? doth she not give us thanks?
	Is she not proud? doth she not count her bless'd,
	Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought
	So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom?
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 21><ACT 3><SCENE 5><69%>
<CAPULET>	<69%>
	How now! how now, chop-logic! 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,
	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!
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 22><ACT 3><SCENE 5><69%>
<CAPULET>	<69%>
	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;
	My fingers itch.—Wife, we scarce thought us bless'd
	That God had lent us but this only child;
	But now I see this one is one too much,
	And that we have a curse in having her.
	Out on her, hilding!
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 23><ACT 3><SCENE 5><69%>
<CAPULET>	<69%>
	And why, my lady wisdom? hold your tongue,
	Good prudence; smatter with your gossips, go.
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 24><ACT 3><SCENE 5><69%>
<CAPULET>	<70%>
	O! God ye good den.
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 25><ACT 3><SCENE 5><69%>
<CAPULET>	<70%>
	Peace, you mumbling fool;
	Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl;
	For here we need it not.
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 26><ACT 3><SCENE 5><70%>
<CAPULET>	<70%>
	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, 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;
	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.
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 27><ACT 4><SCENE 2><76%>
<CAPULET>	<76%>
	So many guests invite as here are writ.
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit Servant.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks.
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 28><ACT 4><SCENE 2><76%>
<CAPULET>	<76%>
	How canst thou try them so?
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 29><ACT 4><SCENE 2><76%>
<CAPULET>	<76%>
	Go, be gone.
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit Second Servant.>
</STAGE DIR>
	We shall be much unfurnish'd for this time.
	What! is my daughter gone to Friar Laurence?
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 30><ACT 4><SCENE 2><76%>
<CAPULET>	<76%>
	Well, he may chance to do some good on her:
	A peevish self-will'd harlotry it is.
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 31><ACT 4><SCENE 2><76%>
<CAPULET>	<76%>
	How now, my headstrong! where have you been gadding?
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 32><ACT 4><SCENE 2><77%>
<CAPULET>	<77%>
	Send for the county; go tell him of this:
	I'll have this knot knit up to-morrow morning.
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 33><ACT 4><SCENE 2><77%>
<CAPULET>	<77%>
	Why, I'm glad on't; this is well: stand up:
	This is as't should be. Let me see the county;
	Ay, marry, go, I say, and fetch him hither.
	Now, afore God! this reverend holy friar,
	All our whole city is much bound to him.
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 34><ACT 4><SCENE 2><77%>
<CAPULET>	<77%>
	Go, nurse, go with her. We'll to church to-morrow.
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 35><ACT 4><SCENE 2><77%>
<CAPULET>	<77%>
	Tush! I will stir about,
	And all things shall be well, I warrant thee, wife:
	Go thou to Juliet, help to deck up her;
	I'll not to bed to-night; let me alone;
	I'll play the housewife for this once. What, ho!
	They are all forth: well, I will walk myself
	To County Paris; to prepare him up
	Against to-morrow. My heart is wondrous light,
	Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim'd.
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 36><ACT 4><SCENE 4><79%>
<CAPULET>	<80%>
	Come, stir, stir, stir! the second cock hath crow'd,
	The curfew bell hath rung, 'tis three o'clock:
	Look to the bak'd meats, good Angelica:
	Spare not for cost.
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 37><ACT 4><SCENE 4><80%>
<CAPULET>	<80%>
	No, not a whit; what! I have watch'd ere now
	All night for lesser cause, and ne'er been sick.
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 38><ACT 4><SCENE 4><80%>
<CAPULET>	<80%>
	A jealous-hood, a jealous-hood!

<STAGE DIR>
<Enter three or four Serving-men, with spits, logs, and baskets.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Now, fellow,
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 39><ACT 4><SCENE 4><80%>
<CAPULET>	<80%>
	Make haste, make haste. <STAGE DIR>
<Exit first Serving-man.>
</STAGE DIR> Sirrah, fetch drier logs:
	Call Peter, he will show thee where they are.
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 40><ACT 4><SCENE 4><80%>
<CAPULET>	<80%>
	Mass, and well said; a merry whoreson, ha!
	Thou shalt be logger-head. Good faith! 'tis day:
	The county will be here with music straight,
	For so he said he would. <STAGE DIR>
<Music within.>
</STAGE DIR> I hear him near.
	Nurse! Wife! what, ho! What, nurse, I say!

<STAGE DIR>
<Re-enter Nurse.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Go waken Juliet, go and trim her up;
	I'll go and chat with Paris. Hie, make haste,
	Make haste; the bridegroom he is come already:
	Make haste, I say.
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt.>
</STAGE DIR>

</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 41><ACT 4><SCENE 5><81%>
<CAPULET>	<82%>
	For shame! bring Juliet forth; her lord is come.
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 42><ACT 4><SCENE 5><81%>
<CAPULET>	<82%>
	Ha! let me see her. Out, alas! she's cold;
	Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff;
	Life and these lips have long been separated:
	Death lies on her like an untimely frost
	Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 43><ACT 4><SCENE 5><82%>
<CAPULET>	<82%>
	Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail,
	Ties up my tongue, and will not let me speak.

</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 44><ACT 4><SCENE 5><82%>
<CAPULET>	<82%>
	Ready to go, but never to return.
	O son! the night before thy wedding-day
	Hath Death lain with thy wife. There she lies,
	Flower as she was, deflowered by him.
	Death is my son-in-law, Death is my heir;
	My daughter he hath wedded: I will die,
	And leave him all; life, living, all is Death's!
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 45><ACT 4><SCENE 5><83%>
<CAPULET>	<83%>
	Despis'd, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd!
	Uncomfortable time, why cam'st thou now
	To murder, murder our solemnity?
	O child! O child! my soul, and not my child!
	Dead art thou! dead! alack, my child is dead;
	And with my child my joys are buried!
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 46><ACT 4><SCENE 5><83%>
<CAPULET>	<84%>
	All things that we ordained festival,
	Turn from their office to black funeral;
	Our instruments to melancholy bells,
	Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast,
	Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change,
	Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse,
	And all things change them to the contrary.
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 47><ACT 5><SCENE 3><96%>
<CAPULET>	<96%>
	What should it be, that they so shriek abroad?
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 48><ACT 5><SCENE 3><96%>
<CAPULET>	<97%>
	O, heaven!—O wife! look how our daughter bleeds!
	This dagger hath mista'en!—for, lo, his house
	Is empty on the back of Montague—
	And is mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom.
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 49><ACT 5><SCENE 3><99%>
<CAPULET>	<100%>
	O brother Montague! give me thy hand:
	This is my daughter's jointure, for no more
	Can I demand.
</CAPULET>

<SPEECH 50><ACT 5><SCENE 3><99%>
<CAPULET>	<100%>
	As rich shall Romeo by his lady lie;
	Poor sacrifices of our enmity!
</CAPULET>

