Romeo and Juliet – Key Quotes: Act 3

Benvolio I pray thee, good Mercutio, let’s retire.The day is hot; the Capulets, abroad;And if we meet we shall not ‘scape a brawl,For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring.
Benvolio By my head, here comes the Capulets.
Mercutio And but one word with one of us? Couple it with something. Make it a word and a blow.
Mercutio Consort? What, dost thou make us minstrels? An thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords. Here’s my fiddlestick. Here’s that shall make you dance. Zounds, “consort”!
Benvolio 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.
Mercutio Men’s eyes were made to look and let them gaze.I will not budge for no man’s pleasure, I.
Tybalt Romeo, the love I bear thee can affordNo better term than this: thou art a villain.
Romeo Tybalt, the reason that I have to love theeDoth much excuse the appertaining rageTo such a greeting. Villain am I none.Therefore, farewell. I see thou know’st me not.
Tybalt Boy, this shall not excuse the injuriesThat thou hast done me. Therefore turn and draw.
Romeo 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.
Mercutio I am hurt.A plague o’ both your houses! I am sped…Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch. Marry, ’tis enough…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…A plague o’ both your houses!
Romeo 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.
Tybalt Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him hereShalt with him hence.
Benvolio Romeo, away, be gone!The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain.Stand not amazed. The Prince will doom thee deathIf thou art taken. Hence, be gone, away!
Romeo Oh, I am fortune’s fool!
Prince Escalus Where are the vile beginners of this fray?
Lady Capulet …Prince, as thou art true,For blood of ours shed blood of Montague.
Prince Escalus Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?
Benvolio And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly.This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.
Lady Capulet 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.
Prince Escalus Romeo slew him; he slew Mercutio.Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?
Lord Montague Not Romeo, Prince, he was Mercutio’s friend.His fault concludes but what the law should end,The life of Tybalt.
Prince Escalus And for that offenceImmediately we do exile him hence…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.
Juliet 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 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!
Nurse 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!
Juliet Blistered be thy tongueFor such a wish! He was not born to shame.Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit…Oh, what a beast was I to chide at him!
Nurse Will you speak well of him that killed your cousin?
Juliet Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name,When I, thy three hours’ wife, have mangled it?
Nurse Hie to your chamber. I’ll find RomeoTo comfort you. I wot well where he is.Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night.I’ll to him. He is hid at Lawrence’ cell.
Juliet O, find him! Give this ring to my true knight,And bid him come to take his last farewell.
Friar Lawrence A gentler judgment vanished from his lips:Not body’s death, but body’s banishment.
Romeo Ha, banishment! Be merciful, say “death,”For exile hath more terror in his look,Much more than death. Do not say “banishment.”
Romeo 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.
Friar Lawrence 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.
Nurse O holy Friar, O, tell me, holy Friar,Where is my lady’s lord? Where’s Romeo
Friar Lawrence Hold thy desperate hand. Art thou a man?..Thou hast amazed me……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,But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench,Thou pout’st upon thy fortune and thy love.Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable.
Friar Lawrence 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.—
Paris These times of woe afford no time to woo.Madam, good night. Commend me to your daughter.
Lord Capulet Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tenderOf my child’s love. I think she will be ruledIn 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—…O’ Thursday let it be.—O’ Thursday, tell her,She shall be married to this noble earl.—
Paris My lord, I would that Thursday were tomorrow.
juliet Yon light is not daylight, I know it, I.It is some meteor that the sun exhalesTo be to thee this night a torchbearer,And light thee on thy way to Mantua.Therefore stay yet. Thou need’st not to be gone.
Juliet Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day.It was the nightingale, and not the lark,That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear.Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree.Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.
Romeo Let me be ta’en. Let me be put to death.I am content, so thou wilt have it so…I have more care to stay than will to go.Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so.—How is ‘t, my soul? Let’s talk. It is not day.
Juliet Oh, think’st thou we shall ever meet again?
Juliet O God, I have an ill-divining soul.Methinks I see thee now, thou art so lowAs one dead in the bottom of a tomb.Either my eyesight fails, or thou look’st pale.
Lady Capulet We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not.Then weep no more. I’ll send to one in Mantua,Where that same banished runagate doth live,Shall give him such an unaccustomed dramThat he shall soon keep Tybalt company.And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied.
Lady Capulet Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child.One who, to put thee from thy heaviness,Hath sorted out a sudden day of joyThat thou expect’st not, nor I looked not for…Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn,The gallant, young, and noble gentleman,The County Paris, at Saint Peter’s Church,Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride.
Juliet Now, by Saint Peter’s Church and Peter too,He shall not make me there a joyful bride…I pray you, tell my lord and father, madam,I will not marry yet. And when I do, I swearIt shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate,Rather than Paris. These are news indeed!
Lord Capulet —How now, wife?Have you delivered to her our decree?
Lord Capulet How, will she none? Doth she not give us thanks?Is she not proud? Doth she not count her blessed,Unworthy as she is, that we have wroughtSo worthy a gentleman to be her bride?
Lord Capulet 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 blestThat God had lent us but this only child,But now I see this one is one too muchAnd that we have a curse in having her.
Juliet O sweet my mother, cast me not away!Delay this marriage for a month, a week.Or, if you do not, make the bridal bedIn that dim monument where Tybalt lies.
Lady Capulet O God!—O Nurse, how shall this be prevented?..What sayst thou? Hast thou not a word of joy?Some comfort, Nurse.
Juliet O God!—O Nurse, how shall this be prevented?..What sayst thou? Hast thou not a word of joy?Some comfort, Nurse.
Nurse I think it best you married with the county.Oh, he’s a lovely gentleman.Romeo’s a dishclout to him…I think you are happy in this second match,For it excels your first. Or if it did not,Your first is dead, or ’twere as good he were,As living here and you no use of him.
Juliet Well, thou hast comforted me marvelous much.Go in, and tell my lady I am gone,Having displeased my father, to Lawrence’s cellTo make confession and to be absolved.

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