Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift.
Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift.
Then plainly know
my heart's dear love is set
on the fair daughter of rich Capulet.
We met, we wooed,
we made exchange of vow.
I'll tell thee as we pass, but this I pray,
that thou consent to marry us today.
Holy Saint Francis!
What a change is here!
Is Rosaline, that thou didst love
so dear, so soon forsaken?
Young men's love then lies not truly
in their hearts, but in their eyes.
Thou chid'st me oft for loving Rosaline.
For doting, not for loving, pupil mine.
I pray thee...
chide me not!
Her I love now doth grace for grace
and love for love allow.
The other did not so.
Yes, she well knew...
thy love did read by rote,
that could not spell.
Maybe I'm just like my mother
She's never satisfied
For this alliance may so happy prove
to turn your households' rancor
to pure love.
This is what it sounds like
When doves cry
Come, young waverer, come, go with me.
In one respect I'll thy assistant be.
For this alliance may so happy prove
to turn your households' rancor
to pure love.
O let us hence! I stand on sudden haste!
Wisely and slow. They stumble that run fast.
Maybe I'm just too demanding
Maybe I'm just like my father, too bold
Maybe I'm just like my mother
She's never satisfied
Why do we scream at each other?
This is what it sounds like
This is what it sounds like
This is what it sounds like
Where the devil should this Romeo be?
Came he not home tonight?
Not to his father's; I spoke with his man.
Why, that same pale hard-hearted
wench, that Rosaline,
torments him so, that he will sure run mad.
Tybalt hath sent a letter to his father's house.
- A challenge, on my life!
- Romeo will answer it?
Any man that can write may answer a letter.
Nay, he will answer the letter's master,
how he dares being dared.
Well, alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead!
Stabbed with a white wench's black eye!
Run through the ear with a love-song!
The very pin of his heart cleft
with the blind bow-boy's butt-shaft!
And is he a man to encounter Tybalt?
- Why, what is Tybalt?
- More than Prince of Cats.
He is the courageous captain of compliments!
He fights as you sing pricksong.
Keeps time, distance, and proportion.
He rests his minim rests.
One, two, and a third...
in your bosom.
The very butcher of a silk button.
A duelist.
A duelist! A gentleman
of the very first house,
of the first and second cause.
The immortal passado!
The punto reverso!
The, um... hai!
The what?
Here comes Romeo.
Romeo!
Ho-ho, taffeta punk!
Signor Romeo, bonjour!
There's a French salutation
to your French slop.
You gave us the counterfeit fairly last night.
Good morrow to you both.
What counterfeit did I give you?
The slip, sir, the slip.
Can you not conceive?
Pardon, good Mercutio.
My business was great
and in such a case as mine
a man may strain courtesy.
That's as much as to say,
such a case as yours
constrains a man to bow in the hams!
- Meaning to curtsy?
- Thou hast most kindly hit it.
- A most courteous exposition.
- Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy.
- Pink for flower?
- Right.
Why, then is my pump well flowered!
O sure wit!
Now art thou sociable. Now art thou Romeo!
Now art thou what thou art,
by art as well as by nature!
Here's goodly gear!
God ye good e'en, fair gentlewoman.
I desire some confidence with you.
A bawd!
A bawd, a bawd, a bawd!
So ho! So ho!
So ho! So ho!
Romeo!
Romeo!
Romeo!
Will you come to your father's?
We'll to dinner thither.
I will follow you.
Farewell, ancient lady! Farewell!
If ye should lead her
in a fool's paradise, as they say,
it were a very gross kind
of behavior, as they say.
For the lady is young
and, therefore, if you should
deal double with her,
truly it were an ill thing,
and very weak dealing.
Bid her to come to confession
this afternoon
and there she shall,
at Friar Laurence's cell, be shrived...
and married.
Love me, love me
Say that you love me
Fool me, fool me
Go on and fool me
Love me, love me
Pretend that you love me
O honey nurse! What news?
- Nurse!
- I am aweary! Give me leave awhile!
Fie, how my bones ache!
What ajaunce have I!
Would thou hadst my bones
and I thy news.
Come, I pray thee, speak!
Jesu, what haste! Can you not stay awhile?
Can you not see that I am out of breath?
How art thou out of breath
when thou hast breath
to say to me that thou art out of breath?
Is the news good or bad? Answer to that.
Well, you have made a simple choice.
You know not how to choose a man.
Romeo? No, not he.
Though his face be better than any man's,
yet his leg excels all men's,
and for a hand and a foot and a body...
But all this I did know before.
What says he of our marriage?
What of that?
Lord, how my head aches!
What a head have I!
And my back!
T'other side!
Oh, my back!
In faith, I am sorry that thou art not well.
Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse!
Tell me, what says my love?
Thy love says, like an honest gentleman,
and a courteous, and a kind,
and a handsome,
and, I warrant, a virtuous...
- Where is your mother?
- "Where is your mother?"
How oddly thou repliest!
Your love says, like an honest gentleman,
"Where is your mother?"
God's Lady dear! Are you so hot?
Henceforth, do your messages yourself!
O here's such a coil!
Come, what says Romeo?
Have you got leave
to go to confession today?
I have.
Then hie you hence to Father Laurence' cell.
There stays a husband to make you a wife!
Everybody's free to feel good
To feel good
Brother and sister
Together we'll make it through
Oh-oh, yeah
Someday a spirit will take you
and guide you there
I know you've been hurting
But I've been waiting to be there for you
And I'll be there just helping you out
Whenever I can
Everybody's free
Everybody's free
Oh, yeah
These violent delights
have violent ends.
And in their triumph die
like fire and powder
which, as they kiss, consume.
The sweetest honey is loathsome
in his own deliciousness.
Therefore love moderately.
Romeo shall thank thee, daughter,
for us both.
Oh, to feel good
I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire!
The day is hot, the Capels are abroad,
and if we meet we shall not 'scape a brawl,
for now, these hot days,
is the mad blood stirring.
We're the Caps!
See? Thou art like one of these 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 him on the drawer,
when indeed there is no need.
Yeah!
Am I like such a fellow?
Thou art as hot ajack in thy mood
as any in Verona.
By my head, here come the Capulets.
By my heel... I care not.
Follow me close.
Gentlemen, good day.
A word with one of you?
And but one word with one of us?
Couple it with something.
Make it a word and a...
a blow!
You shall find me apt enough to that, sir,
and you will give me occasion.
Could you not take some occasion
without giving?
Mercutio!
Thou, uh... consortest with Romeo?
Consort!
What, dost thou make us minstrels?
And thou make minstrels of us,
look to hear nothing but discords!
Here's my fiddlestick!
Here's that shall make you dance!
Zounds! Consort!
Either withdraw unto some private place,
or reason coldly of your grievances,
or else depart. Here all eyes gaze on us!
Men's eyes were made to look,
and let them gaze.
I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.
Peace be with you, sir. Here comes my man.
Mercutio!
Romeo!
The love I bear thee can afford
no better term than this.
Thou art a villain!
Tybalt,
the reason that I have to love thee...
doth much excuse
the appertaining rage to such a greeting.
Villain am I none.
Therefore, farewell.
I see thou knowest me not.
Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries
that thou hast done me!
Turn and draw!
Turn and draw!
Turn and draw.
- Turn and draw!
- 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,
whose name I tender
as dearly as mine own...
be satisfied.
Be satisfied.
O calm, dishonorable, vile submission!
Thou art my soul's hate!
Tybalt!
You rat-catcher!
Will you walk?
What wouldst thou have with me?
Good King of Cats,
nothing but one of your nine lives!
I am for you!
Forbear this outrage, good Mercutio!
- Art thou hurt?
- Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch.
A scratch!
Ay, a scratch...
A scratch!
Courage, man. The hurt cannot be much.
'Twill serve.
Ask for me tomorrow
and you shall find me a grave man.
A plague... o' both your houses!
They have made worms' meat of me.
A plague on both your houses!
Your houses! Your houses!
Your houses! Your houses!
No!
Why the devil came you between us?
I was hurt under your arm.
I thought all for the best!
A plague o' both your houses.
No! No!
Come forth!
Come forth!
Mercutio!
Requiem aeternam
Requiem aeternam
Dona eis
No!
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 fine
that all the world
will be in love with night
and pay no worship to the garish sun.
O, I have bought the mansion of a love
but not possessed it;
and though I am sold, not yet enjoyed.
So... tedious is this day...
as is the night before some festival
to an impatient child
that hath new robes and may not wear them.
Mercutio's soul is but a little way
above our heads,
staying for thine to keep him company!
Thou wretched boy shalt with him hence!
Either thou, or I,
or both, must go with him!
Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him!
Either thou,
or I, or both, must go with him!
I am fortune's fool!
Romeo!
Away, be gone! Stand not amazed!
Away!
Romeo!
Tybalt!
Where are the vile beginners of this fray?
Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?
Romeo he cries aloud, "Hold, friends!"
Tybalt hit the life of stout Mercutio.
Tybalt here slain...
Romeo's hand did slay.
Prince!
As thou art true,
for blood of ours, shed blood of Montague!
Romeo... spoke him fair,
could not take truce
with the unruly spleen of Tybalt...
deaf to peace.
He is a kinsman to the Montague.
Affection makes him false!
I beg for justice,
which thou, Prince, must give!
Romeo slew Tybalt.
Romeo must not live!
Romeo slew him. He slew Mercutio.
Who now the price
of his dear blood doth owe?
Not Romeo, Prince.
He was Mercutio's friend.
His fault concludes but what the law
should end - the life of Tybalt.
And for that offence
immediately we do exile him.
Noble Prince...
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 is found, that hour is his last!
Romeo is banished!
Banishment...
Be merciful, say death.
For exile hath more terror in his look,
much more than death.
Do not say banishment.
Affliction is enamored of thy parts,
and thou art wedded to calamity.
Hence from Verona art thou banished.
Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.
There is no world without Verona walls.
Hence banished is banish'd from
the world, and world's exile is death.
Then banished is death mistermed.
Calling death banished, thou cutt'st
my head off with a golden axe
and smil'st upon the stroke
that murders me.
O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness!
This is dear mercy and thou seest it not.
Hence!
- I come from my lady Juliet!
- Welcome, then.
Where is my lady's lord?
Romeo, come forth.
- Ah, sir.
- Nurse.
Ah, sir.
Death's the end of all.
Speakest thou of Juliet?
Where is she and how doth she?
And what says my concealed lady
to our cancelled love?
O she says nothing, sir,
but weeps and weeps.
And then on Romeo cries,
and then falls down again.
As if that name, shot from
the deadly level of a gun,
did murder her, as that name's
cursed hand murdered her kinsman!
I thought thy disposition better tempered.
Thy Juliet is alive. There art thou happy.
Tybalt would kill thee,
but thou slewest Tybalt.
There art thou happy.
The law that threatened death
becomes thy friend and turns it to exile.
There art thou happy.
A pack of blessings light upon thy back.
Wherefore railest thou on thy birth,
the heaven, and earth,
since birth, and heaven, and earth,
all three do meet in thee at once?
Sir, a ring my lady bid me give you.
How well my comfort is revived by this.
Go.
Get thee to thy love, as was decreed.
Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her.
Hie you! Make haste!
But look thou...
stay not till the watch be set,
for then thou canst not pass to Mantua,
where thou wilt live till we can
find a time to blaze your marriage,
reconcile your friends,
beg pardon of the Prince,
and call thee back with
twenty hundred thousand times more joy
than thou went'st forth in lamentation.
Quick, hence! Be gone by break of day!
Sojourn in Mantua!
Farewell.
O God!
Did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood?
O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face!
Was ever book containing
such vile matter so fairly bound?
O that deceit should dwell
in such a gorgeous palace!
She'll not come down tonight.
These times of woe afford no time to woo.
Look you, she loved
her kinsman Tybalt dearly.
And so did I.
Well,
we were born to die.
I'll know her mind early tomorrow.
Tonight she's mewed up to her heaviness.
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?
But whyfore, villain,
didst thou kill my cousin?
I'm kissing you
Cos I'm kissing you, o-oh
I'm kissing you
I will make a desperate tender
of my child's love.
I think she will be ruled in all respects by me.
Nay, more! I doubt it not!
But what say you to Thursday?
My lord, I...
I would that Thursday were tomorrow!
Thursday let it be, then! Wife!
Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed.
Tell her o' Thursday she shall
be married to this noble sir!
Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day.
I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
Yon light is not daylight; I know it, I.
It is some meteor that the sun exhales
to light thee on thy way to Mantua.
Therefore stay yet; thou need'st not be gone.
Well, let me be taken.
Let me be put to death!
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.
It is... It is!
Hie hence, be gone, away!
O now be gone!
More light and light it grows.
More light and light,
more dark and dark our woes.
Madam!
Your lady mother is coming to your chamber!
Ho, daughter, are you up?
Then, window,
let day in and let life...
out!
Juliet?
- Think'st thou we shall ever meet again?
- I doubt it not.
Trust me, love. All these woes
shall serve for sweet discourses
- in our times to come.
- Ho, daughter!
Juliet!
O God!
I have an ill-divining soul!
Methinks I see thee, now thou art so low,
as one dead in the bottom of a tomb.
Adieu!
O fortune, fortune!
Be fickle, fortune.
For then I hope thou wilt not
keep him long, but send him back.
Thou hast a careful father, child.
One who, to put thee from thy heaviness,
hath sorted out a sudden day of joy,
which thou expect'st not,
nor I looked not for.
Madam, in happy time. What day is that?
Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn,
the gallant, young,
and noble gentleman, Sir Paris,
at St Peter's Church,
shall happily make thee there
a joyful bride.
Now, by St Peter's Church and Peter too,
he shall not make me there a joyful bride!
Here comes your father. Tell him so yourself.
How now, wife?
Have you delivered to her our decree?
Ay, sir.
But she will none, she gives you thanks.
I would the fool were married to her grave.
How?
Will she none?
Is she not proud?
Doth she not count her blest,
unworthy as she is,
that we have wrought so worthy
a gentleman to be her bride?
Not proud you have,
but thankful that you have.
Proud can I never be of what I hate!
Thank me no thankings,
nor proud me no prouds!
But fettle your fine joints
'gainst Thursday next!
Hear me with patience but to speak a word!
No!
Fie, fie! Stop it!
Speak not! Reply not! Do not answer me!
Husband, are you mad?
Hang thee, young baggage!
Disobedient wretch!
God in heaven bless her! You are
to blame, my lord, to rate her so!
Peace, you mumbling fool!
I tell thee what.
Get thee to church o' Thursday,
or never after look me in the face!
An you be mine, I'll give you to my friend.
An you be not, hang, beg, starve,
die in the streets!
Trust to 't. Bethink you.
I'll not be forsworn!
O sweet my mother, cast me not away!
Delay this marriage for a month, a week.
Or, if you do not,
make the bridal bed in that
dim monument where Tybalt lies.
Talk not to me...
for I'll not speak a word.
Do as thou wilt,
for I have done with thee.
O God!
O Nurse, how shall this be prevented?
What say'st thou? Hast thou not
a word of joy? Some comfort, Nurse!
Faith, here it is.
I think it best you marry with this Paris.
O he's a lovely gentleman.
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 to him.
Speakest thou from thy heart?
And from my soul too;
else beshrew them both!
Amen.
What?
Well, thou hast comforted me
marvelous much.
Go in and tell my lady I am gone,
having displeased my father,
to Friar Laurence to make
confession and be absolved.
Immoderately she weeps for Tybalts death.
Now, sir, her father counts it dangerous
that she doth give her sorrow
so much sway
and in his wisdom hastes our marriage
to stop the inundation of her tears.
Happily met, my lady and my wife.
That may be, sir, when I may be a wife.
That "may be" must be, love,
on Thursday next.
- What must be shall be.
- Well, that's a certain text.
Come you to make confession?
Are you at leisure, holy Father, now,
or shall I come to you at evening mass?
My leisure serves thee,
pensive daughter, now.
Good sir, we must entreat the time alone.
God shield I should disturb devotion!
Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse ye.
Till then adieu,
and keep this holy kiss.
Tell me not, Father,
that thou hearest of this,
- unless thou tell me how I may prevent it!
- It strains me past the compass of my wits!
If in thy wisdom thou canst give no help,
do thou but call my resolution wise.
- And with this, I'll help it presently!
- Hold, daughter!
Be not so long to speak! I long to die!
I do spy a kind of hope,
which craves as desperate an execution
as that is desperate
which we would prevent.
lf, rather than to marry with this Paris,
thou hast the strength of will
to slay thyself,
then it is likely thou wilt
undertake a thing like death
to chide away this shame.
And, if thou darest,
I'll give thee remedy.
No warmth, no breath shall testify thou livest.
Each part,
deprived of supple government,
shall stiff and stark and cold
appear, like death.
Now, when the bridegroom in the morning
comes to rouse thee from thy bed,
there art thou dead.
Thou shalt be borne
to that same ancient vault
where all the kindred of the Capulets lie.
And in this borrowed likeness
of shrunk death
thou shalt continue
four and twenty hours
and then awake as from a pleasant sleep.
In the meantime, against thou shalt awake,
shall Romeo by my letters know our drift.
And hither shall he come that very night
to bear thee both hence to Mantua.
Take thou this vial, being then in bed,
and this distilling liquor drink thou off.
I'll send my letters to thy lord
post haste to Mantua.
Hello?
What if this mixture do not work at all?
Shall I be married then tomorrow morning?
- What, are you busy? Need you my help?
- No, madam.
We have culled such necessaries
as are behoveful for our estate tomorrow.
So please you, let me now be left alone,
and let the nurse this night sit up with you.
For I am sure you have your hands full all
in this so sudden business.
Good night.
Get thee to bed and rest,
for thou hast need.
Farewell.
God knows when we shall meet again.
Good night.
Romeo,
I drink to thee.
Requiem...
As the custom is, in all her best array,
bear her to church.
And all this day an unaccustomed spirit
lifts me above the ground
with cheerful thoughts.
I dreamt my lady came
and found me dead
and breathed such life with kisses
in my lips that I revived
and was an emperor.
Ah, me!
How sweet is love itself possessed,
when but love's shadows
are so rich in joy!
News from Verona!
How now, Balthasar?
Dost thou not bring me
letters from the priest?
How doth my lady? Is my father well?
How doth my lady Juliet?
For nothing can be ill if she be well.
Then she is well, and nothing can be ill.
Her body rests in chapel monument,
and her immortal part
with the angels lives.
I saw her laid low.
Pardon me for bringing these ill news.
Is it e'en so?
Then I defy you, stars!
Juliet!
Juliet!
- I will hence tonight.
- Have patience!
Leave me!
Your looks are pale and wild
and do import some misadventure.
Tush! Thou art deceived!
Hast thou no letters to me from the priest?
No matter.
Well, Juliet,
I will lie with thee tonight.
I will hence tonight.
Romeo is within Verona walls.
Fear comes upon me!
O, much I fear
some ill, unthrifty thing!
The letter was of dear import!
I couldn't send it,
nor get a messenger to bring it thee.
The neglecting it may do much damage.
Bring forth these enemies,
Capulet and Montague!
Let me have a dram of poison,
such soon-speeding gear as will
disperse itself through all the veins
that the life-weary taker may fall dead.
Such mortal drugs I have, but Verona law
is death to any he that utters them.
The world is not thy friend,
nor the world's law!
Then be not poor, but break it
and take this!
My poverty but not my will consents.
I pay thy poverty and not thy will.
Drink it off,
and if you had the strength of 20 men,
it would dispatch you straight.
There's my gold.
Worse poison to men's souls
than these poor compounds
that thou may'st not sell.
Romeo hath no notice of these accidents.
I will write again to Mantua.
Within the hour will the fair Juliet wake.
She stirs. The lady stirs.
- I do beseech you.
- Live and be prosperous.
And farewell, good fellow.
Then I will leave thee.
Tempt not a desperate man!
Hold! Hold!
Hold!
Once more I say to you, hold!
My love...
My wife...
Death that hath sucked
the honey of thy breath
hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.
Thou art not conquered.
Beauty's ensign yet is crimson
in thy lips and in thy cheeks
and death's pale flag is not advanced there.
Dear Juliet, why art thou yet so fair?
Shall I believe that
unsubstantial death is amorous
and keeps thee here in dark
to be his paramour?
Here.
O, here will I set up my everlasting rest
and shake the yoke of inauspicious stars
from this world-wearied flesh.
Eyes, look your last.
Arms, take your last embrace.
And lips...
O you, the doors to breath...
seal with a righteous kiss...
a dateless bargain
to engrossing death.
Romeo...
What's here?
Poison...
Drunk all, and left no friendly drop
to help me after?
I'll kiss thy lips.
Haply some poison yet doth hang on them.
Thy lips are warm.
Thus...
with a kiss...
I die.
See what a scourge
is laid upon your hate,
that heaven finds means
to kill your joys with love!
And I, for winking at your discords too,
have lost a brace of kinsmen.
All are punished.
All are punished!
A glooming peace
this morning with it brings.
The sun for sorrow
will not show his head.
Go hence, to have more talk
of these sad things.
Some shall be pardoned,
and some punished.
For never was a story of more woe
than this of Juliet and her Romeo.
Wake
From your sleep
The drying of
Your tears
Today
We escape
We escape
Pack
And get dressed
Before your father
Hears us
Before
All hell
Breaks loose
Breathe
Keep breathing
Don't lose
Your nerve
Breathe
Keep breathing
I can't do this
Alone
Sing us a song
A song to keep us warm
There's
Such a chill
Such a chill
You can laugh
A spineless laugh
We hope
Your rules
And wisdom
Choke you
Now
We are one
In everlasting peace
We hope
That you choke
That you choke
We hope
That you choke
That you choke
We hope
That you choke
That you choke