Romeo and Juliet Act 3 Quotes (add scene five)

Thou art like one of those fellows that, when he enters the confines of a tavern, claps me his sword upon the table and says “God send me no need of thee!” and, by the operation of the second cup, draws it on the drawer when indeed there is no need. Mercutio describing Benvolio
Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in Italy, and as soon moved to be moody, and as soon moody to be moved. Mercutio talking about Benvolio’s ability to be angered only when there is a reason to be angered
Nay, an there were two such, we should have none shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou, why, thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more or a hair less in his beard than thou hast. Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes. What eye but such an eye would spy out such a quarrel? Thy head is as full of quarrels as an egg is full of meat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg for quarreling. Thou hast quarreled with a man for coughing in the street because he hath wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun. Didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet before Easter? With another, for tying his new shoes with old ribbon? And yet thou wilt tutor me from quarreling! Mercutio saying Benvolio only fights about pointless things
And but one word with one of us? Couple it with something. Make it a word and a blow. Mercutio speaking to Tybalt
You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you will give me occasion. Tybalt saying to Mercutio that he is happy to fight if Mercutio gives him a reason
We talk here in the public haunt of men.Either withdraw unto some private place,And reason coldly of your grievances,Or else depart. Here all eyes gaze on us. Benvolio telling Mercutio and Tybalt to calm down since they are in public
Men’s eyes were made to look and let them gaze.I will not budge for no man’s pleasure, I. Mercutio’s reply to Benvolio
Boy, this shall not excuse the injuriesThat thou hast done me. Therefore turn and draw. Tybalt’s reply to Romeo’s new “love” for Tybalt
I do protest I never injured thee,But love thee better than thou canst devise,Till thou shalt know the reason of my love.And so, good Capulet—which name I tenderAs dearly as my own—be satisfied. Romeo speaking to Tybalt saying he would never hurt him, he charishes the Capulet name
Good King of Cats, nothing but one of your nine lives, that I mean to make bold withal, and, as you shall use me hereafter, dry-beat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pilcher by the ears? Make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out. Mercutio sparking a fight with Tybalt
Draw, Benvolio. Beat down their weapons.Gentlemen, for shame! Forbear this outrage.Tybalt, Mercutio! The Prince expressly hathForbidden bandying in Verona streets.Hold, Tybalt! Good Mercutio! Romeo trying to stop the fight but gets Mercutio killed
I am hurt.A plague o’ both your houses! I am sped.Is he gone and hath nothing? Mercutio dying and cursing the families
Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch. Marry, ’tis enough.Where is my page?—Go, villain, fetch a surgeon. Mercutio dying but saying its nothing
No, ’tis not so deep as a well nor so wide as a church-door, but ’tis enough, ’twill serve. Ask for me tomorrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague o’ both your houses! Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a cat to scratch a man to death! A braggart, a rogue, a villain that fights by the book of arithmetic! Why the devil came you between us? I was hurt under your arm. Mercutio dying and once more cursing the houses
Alive in triumph—and Mercutio slain!Away to heaven, respective lenity,And fire-eyed fury be my conduct now.Now, Tybalt, take the “villain” back againThat late thou gavest me, for Mercutio’s soulIs but a little way above our heads,Staying for thine to keep him company.Either thou or I, or both, must go with him. Romeo preparing to kill Tybalt
Tybalt here slain, whom Romeo’s hand did slay.Romeo, that spoke him fair, bade him bethinkHow nice the quarrel was and urged withalYour high displeasure. All this utteredWith gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bowed,Could not take truce with the unruly spleenOf Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tiltsWith piercing steel at bold Mercutio’s breast,Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point,And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beatsCold death aside and with the other sendsIt back to Tybalt, whose dexterity,Retorts it. Romeo, he cries aloud,”Hold, friends! Friends, part!” and, swifter than his tongue,His agile arm beats down their fatal points,And ‘twixt them rushes—underneath whose armAn envious thrust from Tybalt hit the lifeOf stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled. But by and by comes back to Romeo,Who had but newly entertained revenge,And to ‘t they go like lightning, for ere ICould draw to part them was stout Tybalt slain.And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly.This is the truth, or let Benvolio die. Benvolio explaining the fight
He is a kinsman to the Montague.Affection makes him false. He speaks not true.Some twenty of them fought in this black strife,And all those twenty could but kill one life.I beg for justice, which thou, Prince, must give.Romeo slew Tybalt. Romeo must not live. Lady Capulet accusing Benvolio of lying
And for that offenceImmediately we do exile him hence.I have an interest in your hearts’ proceeding.My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding.But I’ll amerce you with so strong a fineThat you shall all repent the loss of mine.I will be deaf to pleading and excuses.Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses,Therefore use none. Let Romeo hence in haste,Else, when he’s found, that hour is his last.Bear hence this body and attend our will.Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill. Prince giving Romeo his punishment but talking to Benvolio and Lady Capulet
Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,Toward Phoebus’ lodging. Such a wagonerAs Phaeton would whip you to the westAnd bring in cloudy night immediately.Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night,That runaways’ eyes may wink, and RomeoLeap to these arms, untalked of and unseen.Lovers can see to do their amorous ritesBy 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 matchPlayed for a pair of stainless maidenhoods.Hood my unmanned blood bating in my cheeks,With thy black mantle, till strange love, grow bold,Think true love acted simple modesty.Come, night. Come, Romeo. Come, thou day in night,For thou wilt lie upon the wings of nightWhiter than new snow upon a raven’s back.Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-browed night,Give me my Romeo. And when I shall die,Take him and cut him out in little stars,And he will make the face of heaven so fineThat all the world will be in love with nightAnd pay no worship to the garish sun.Oh, I have bought the mansion of a love,But not possessed it, and though I am sold,Not yet enjoyed. So tedious is this dayAs is the night before some festivalTo an impatient child that hath new robesAnd may not wear them. Juliet impatiently waiting for her wedding night
I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes—God save the mark!—here on his manly breast.A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse.Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaubed in blood,All in gore blood. I swoonèd at the sight. The nurse talking to Juliet about seeing the aftermath of the fight
O serpent heart hid with a flowering face!Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?Beautiful tyrant! Fiend angelical!Dove-feathered raven, wolvish-ravening lamb!Despisèd substance of divinest show,Just opposite to what thou justly seem’st.A damnèd saint, an honorable villain!O nature, what hadst thou to do in hellWhen thou didst bower the spirit of a fiendIn moral paradise of such sweet flesh?Was ever book containing such vile matterSo fairly bound? Oh, that deceit should dwellIn such a gorgeous palace! Juliet conflicted over Romeo killing Tybalt. Paradoxes
There’s no trust,No faith, no honesty in men. All perjured,All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.Ah, where’s my man?—Give me some aqua vitae.—These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old.Shame come to Romeo! Nurse joining in on shaming Romeo with Juliet
Blistered be thy tongueFor such a wish! He was not born to shame.Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit,For ’tis a throne where honor may be crowned.Sole monarch of the universal earth,Oh, what a beast was I to chide at him! Juliet now defending Romeo
A gentler judgment vanished from his lips:Not body’s death, but body’s banishment. Friar telling Romeo his punishment
Ha, banishment! Be merciful, say “death,”For exile hath more terror in his look,Much more than death. Do not say “banishment.” Romeo annoyed with his punishment-death is better-speaking to friar
There is no world without Verona wallsBut purgatory, torture, hell itself.Hence “banishèd” is banished from the world,And world’s exile is death. Then “banishèd,” Is death mistermed. Calling death “banishment,”Thou cutt’st my head off with a golden axAnd smilest upon the stroke that murders me. Romeo to Friar saying he doesn’t want a life that isn’t in Verona
O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness!Thy fault our law calls death, but the kind Prince,Taking thy part, hath rushed aside the law,And turned that black word “death” to “banishment.”This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not. Friar explaining to Romeo how lucky he is that the Prince made the decision he did
Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel.Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,An hour but married, Tybalt murderèd,Doting like me, and like me banishèd,Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hairAnd fall upon the ground, as I do now,Taking the measure of an unmade grave. Romeo talking to Friar about how he cannot criticize what he has never felt
Oh, he is even in my mistress’ case,Just in her case. O woeful sympathy,Piteous predicament! Even so lies she,Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering.Stand up, stand up. Stand, an you be a man.For Juliet’s sake, for her sake, rise and stand.Why should you fall into so deep an O? The nurse describing how Romeo is grieving just like Juliet, talking to Friar
Hold thy desperate hand.Art thou a man? Thy form cries out thou art.Thy tears are womanish. Thy wild acts denoteThe unreasonable fury of a beast.Unseemly woman in a seeming man,And ill-beseeming beast in seeming both!Thou hast amazed me. By my holy order,I thought thy disposition better tempered.Hast thou slain Tybalt? Wilt thou slay thyself,And slay thy lady that in thy life livesBy doing damnèd hate upon thyself?Why rail’st thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth?Since birth and heaven and earth, all three do meetIn thee at once, which thou at once wouldst lose?Fie, fie, thou shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit,Which, like a usurer, abound’st in allAnd usest none in that true use indeedWhich should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit.Thy noble shape is but a form of wax,Digressing from the valor of a man;Thy dear love sworn but hollow perjury,Killing that love which thou hast vowed to cherish;Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love,Misshapen in the conduct of them both,Like powder in a skill-less soldier’s flask,Is set afire by thine own ignorance;And thou dismembered with thine own defence.What, rouse thee, man! Thy Juliet is alive,For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead—There art thou happy. Tybalt would kill thee,But thou slew’st Tybalt—there art thou happy.The law that threatened death becomes thy friendAnd turns it to exile—there art thou happy.A pack of blessings light upon thy back,Happiness courts thee in her best array, But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench,Thou pout’st upon thy fortune and thy love.Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable.Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed.Ascend her chamber, hence, and comfort her.But look thou stay not till the watch be set,For then thou canst not pass to Mantua,Where thou shalt live, till we can find a timeTo blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends,Beg pardon of the Prince, and call thee backWith twenty hundred thousand times more joyThan thou went’st forth in lamentation.—Go before, Nurse. Commend me to thy lady,And bid her hasten all the house to bed,Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto.Romeo is coming. Friar’s monologue describing how pathetic Romeo is acting and how lucky he is and developing a plan

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