Romeo & Juliet (Act 2)

Nay, I'll conjure too.

That were some spite: my invocation

To be consorted with the humorous night:

He jests at scars that never felt a wound.

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Her eye discourses; I will answer it.

Having some business, do entreat her eyes

Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye

And I am proof against their enmity.

Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.

As that vast shore wash'd with the farthest sea,

I'll frown and be perverse an say thee nay,

And not impute this yielding to light love,

Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest

I hear some noise within; dear love, adieu!

Too flattering-sweet to be substantial.

I do beseech thee--

So thrive my soul--

Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.

With baleful weeds and precious-juiced flowers.

For nought so vile that on the earth doth live

Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse:

And vice sometimes by action dignified.

And where the worser is predominant,

Thou art up-roused by some distemperature;

I have forgot that name, and that name's woe.

Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline!

For doting, not for loving, pupil mine.

For this alliance may so happy prove,

O, let us hence; I stand on sudden haste.

Why, is not this a lamentable thing, grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these perdona-mi's, who stand so much on the new form, that they cannot at ease on the old bench?

Why, is not this a lamentable thing, grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these perdona-mi's, who stand so much on the new form, that they cannot at ease on the old bench?

The ship, sir, the slip; can you not conceive?

A most courteous exposition.

'Tis no less, I tell you, for the bawdy hand of the dial is now upon the prick of noon.

I pray you, sir, what saucy merchant was this, that was so full of his ropery?

Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress.

But old folks, many feign as they were dead;

Unwieldy, slow, heavy and pale as lead.

I am a-weary, give me leave awhile:

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,

Which as they kiss consume: the sweetest honey

Is loathsome in his own deliciousness

And in the taste confounds the appetite: