Sampson talks big and flinches often — his wordplay is designed to sound threatening while leaving him a legal exit. Watch for how he always needs Gregory to validate his bravado.
Gregory, on my word, we’ll not carry coals.
Gregory, I swear, we won't put up with any disrespect.
Gregory, look, I'm not taking anything from these Montagues.
not taking disrespect from montagues letting them know it
The smarter half of the Capulet servant pair: he deflates Sampson's bluster while also escalating toward the fight. His jokes are sharper than his sword.
No, for then we should be colliers.
No, because then we'd be coal sellers—surrendering completely.
No, dude, we'd just be pathetic. That's a total loss.
nah that makes us weak skip it
I mean, if we be in choler, we’ll draw.
What I mean is, if we get angry, we'll draw our swords.
What I'm saying is, if they mess with us, we're ready to fight.
if they start it we're pulling blades full stop
Ay, while you live, draw your neck out o’ the collar.
Right—while you live, keep your neck out of trouble by running.
Yeah, but if you want to live, you're better off running.
live longer by running that's the move
I strike quickly, being moved.
I react quickly when I'm provoked.
I'm fast when I get angry.
i react fast when someone pisses me off
But thou art not quickly moved to strike.
But you don't react quickly to a fight—you hesitate.
Except you never do. You always back down.
except you always hesitate which makes you weak
A dog of the house of Montague moves me.
A Montague servant provokes me, and I will hold my ground.
If a Montague comes at me, I'm standing. Not running.
montague shows up i'm standing not budging
To move is to stir; and to be valiant is to stand: therefore, if thou
art moved, thou runn’st away.
To move is to stir; to be valiant is to stand. So if provoked, you stir—you run.
Moving means reacting, being brave means standing still. So you're literally running.
moving = reacting braving = standing so you're running lol
A dog of that house shall move me to stand.
I will take the wall of any man or maid of Montague’s.
A Montague shall provoke me to stand. I'll claim the right of way from any Montague, man or woman.
When a Montague comes near, I stand my ground. I'm taking the whole street—man, woman, whoever.
montague comes near i'm not moving i own the street
That shows thee a weak slave, for the weakest goes to the wall.
That shows you're weak. The weakest always get pushed to the wall.
That just proves you're pathetic. Only weak people get shoved to the wall.
that's weakness only losers get shoved sounds like you
True, and therefore women, being the weaker vessels, are ever thrust to
the wall: therefore I will push Montague’s men from the wall, and
thrust his maids to the wall.
True, and therefore women, being weaker, are always forced to the wall. I will be a tyrant.
Exactly. Women are weaker, so they always lose ground. And I'll be a tyrant to them.
women lose i'll be a tyrant they're all weak
The quarrel is between our masters and us their men.
The quarrel is between our masters and us, their servants.
Look, the fight's between the bosses. We're just their guys.
fight's between bosses we're just hired stop this
’Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when I have fought with the
men I will be civil with the maids, I will cut off their heads.
All the same, I'll act like a tyrant: when I've fought the men, I'll have their heads.
Whatever, I'll be a tyrant anyway. When I fight the men, I'll go after the women.
bosses can fight i'm going after the women instead
The heads of the maids?
Their heads?
Their heads?
heads? what heads? maids' heads?
Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; take it in what sense
thou wilt.
Yes, the heads of the maids, or their virginity—take it however you want.
Yeah, the maids' heads, or their virginity, however you want to interpret it.
yeah the maids their heads or virginity take your pick
They must take it in sense that feel it.
They must take it in sense that feel it.
they must take it in sense that feel it.
they must take it in sense that feel it.
Me they shall feel while I am able to stand: and ’tis known I am a
pretty piece of flesh.
Me they shall feel while I am able to stand: and ’tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh.
me they shall feel while i am able to stand: and ’tis known i am a pretty piece of flesh.
me they shall feel while i am able to stand: and ’tis known
’Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou hadst been poor John.
Draw thy tool; here comes of the house of Montagues.
’Tis well you are not fish; if you hadst, you hadst been poor John. Draw your tool; hbefore comes of the house of Montagues.
’tis well you are not fish; if you hadst, you hads...
’tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou hadst been
My naked weapon is out: quarrel, I will back thee.
My naked weapon is out: quarrel, I will back you.
my naked weapon is out: quarrel, i will back you.
my naked weapon is out: quarrel, i will back thee.
How? Turn thy back and run?
How? Turn your back and run?
how? turn your back and run?
how? turn thy back and run?
When Romeo delivers his string of oxymorons — 'brawling love, loving hate, feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire' — he is speaking a highly specific emotional dialect. Petrarch, the 14th-century Italian poet, invented the sonnet form and with it a whole vocabulary for unrequited love: the beloved is a goddess, the lover is a slave, love is simultaneously a torture and an ecstasy. Petrarch's sonnets about Laura were translated across Europe and became the standard way educated young men talked about being in love. Romeo is doing what you do when you're young and romantic and educated in the right poetry: performing the approved emotional response. The question Shakespeare is asking — and will answer in about 100 lines — is whether Romeo actually feels this or just knows the words. His encounter with Juliet answers it: with her, he stops reaching for borrowed poetry and starts inventing his own.
Fear me not.
Fear me not.
fear me not.
fear me not.
No, marry; I fear thee!
No, marry; I fear you!
no, marry; i fear you!
no, marry; i fear thee!
Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin.
Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin.
let us take the law of our sides; let them begin.
let us take the law of our sides; let them begin.
I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as they list.
I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as they list.
i will frown as i pass by, and let them take it as they list.
i will frown as i pass by, and let them take it as they list
Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them, which is disgrace to
them if they bear it.
Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them, which is disgrace to them if they bear it.
nay, as they dare. i will bite my thumb at them, which is disgrace to them if they bear it.
nay, as they dare. i will bite my thumb at them, which is di
Abram is the straight man to Sampson's provocation — cautious enough to know a legal technicality matters, honest enough not to deny what's happening.
Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
I do bite my thumb, sir.
I do bite my thumb, sir.
i do bite my thumb, sir.
i do bite my thumb, sir.
Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
Is the law of our side if I say ay?
Is the law of our side if I say ay?
is the law of our side if i say ay?
is the law of our side if i say ay?
No.
No.
no.
no.
No sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir; but I bite my thumb, sir.
No sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir; but I bite my thumb, sir.
no sir, i do not bite my thumb at you, sir; but i bite my thumb, sir.
no sir, i do not bite my thumb at you, sir; but i bite my th
Do you quarrel, sir?
Do you quarrel, sir?
do you quarrel, sir?
do you quarrel, sir?
Quarrel, sir? No, sir.
Quarrel, sir? No, sir.
quarrel, sir? no, sir.
quarrel, sir? no, sir.
But if you do, sir, I am for you. I serve as good a man as you.
But if you do, sir, I am for you. I serve as good a man as you.
but if you do, sir, i am for you. i serve as good a man as you.
but if you do, sir, i am for you. i serve as good a man as y
No better.
No better.
no better.
no better.
Well, sir.
Well, sir.
well, sir.
well, sir.
Say better; here comes one of my master’s kinsmen.
Say better; hbefore comes one of my master’s kinsmen.
say better; hbefore comes one of my master’s kinsmen.
say better; here comes one of my master’s kinsmen.
Yes, better, sir.
Yes, better, sir.
yes, better, sir.
yes, better, sir.
You lie.
You lie.
you lie.
you lie.
Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy washing blow.
Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember your washing blow.
draw, if you be men. gregory, remember your washing blow.
draw, if you be men. gregory, remember thy washing blow.
One of the most famous things about Romeo and Juliet is that we never learn why the Montagues and Capulets hate each other. Shakespeare never tells us. The Prince says it began from 'an airy word' — something trivial, nothing real. By the time we arrive in the play, both families have forgotten the cause; all they remember is the ritual of mutual hatred. This is Shakespeare's point. The feud isn't about anything; it's about itself — a self-perpetuating mechanism of honor and resentment that kills the people caught inside it. Romeo and Juliet are destroyed not by evil, but by meaninglessness dressed up as tradition. Keep watching for how many times characters in the play try to assign reason to the feud — and find none.
Benvolio's defining register is rational concern — he wants to solve problems, prevent fights, and talk Romeo out of his moods. Watch for how he consistently offers practical advice that nobody follows.
Part, fools! put up your swords, you know not what you do.
Pare, fools! put up your swords, you know not what you do.
pare, fools! put up your swords, you know not what you do.
part, fools! put up your swords, you know not what you do.
Tybalt speaks in absolutes: hatred, honor, death. He has no gear between 'composed' and 'murderous.' Watch for how he frames everything as a matter of personal and family honor that demands violent resolution.
What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds?
Turn thee Benvolio, look upon thy death.
What, are you drawn among these heareless hinds? Turn you Benvolio, look upon your death.
what, are you drawn among these heareless hinds? turn you benvolio, look upon your death.
what, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? turn thee
I do but keep the peace, put up thy sword,
Or manage it to part these men with me.
I do but keep the peace, put up your sword, Or manage it to pare these men with me.
i do but keep the peace, put up your sword, or manage it to pare these men with me.
i do but keep the peace, put up thy sword, or manage it to p
What, drawn, and talk of peace? I hate the word
As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee:
Have at thee, coward.
What, drawn, and talk of peace? I hate the word As I hate hell, all Montagues, and you: Have at you, coward.
what, drawn, and talk of peace? i hate the word as...
what, drawn, and talk of peace? i hate the word as i hate he
Clubs, bills and partisans! Strike! Beat them down!
Down with the Capulets! Down with the Montagues!
Clubs, bills and pareisans! Strike! Beat them down! Down with the Capulets! Down with the Montagues!
clubs, bills and pareisans! strike! beat them down...
clubs, bills and partisans! strike! beat them down! down wit
Capulet oscillates between bluster and reason, and his authority is constantly tested by those around him — his wife, Tybalt, eventually his own daughter. Watch for the gap between what he commands and what happens.
What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho!
What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho!
what noise is this? give me my long sword, ho!
what noise is this? give me my long sword, ho!
Lady Capulet is dry, practical, and unimpressed. Her one line in this scene — 'A crutch, a crutch!' — says everything about her marriage. Watch for how she delivers maximum impact in minimal words.
A crutch, a crutch! Why call you for a sword?
A crutch, a crutch! Why call you for a sword?
a crutch, a crutch! why call you for a sword?
a crutch, a crutch! why call you for a sword?
My sword, I say! Old Montague is come,
And flourishes his blade in spite of me.
My sword, I say! Old Montague is come, And flourishes his blade in spite of me.
my sword, i say! old montague is come, and flourishes his blade in spite of me.
my sword, i say! old montague is come, and flourishes his bl
Montague is a mirror image of Capulet — same pride, same age, same inability to stay out of a fight he's been ordered to avoid. His tenderness toward Romeo, though, is real.
Thou villain Capulet! Hold me not, let me go.
Thou villain Capulet! Hold me not, let me go.
thou villain capulet! hold me not, let me go.
thou villain capulet! hold me not, let me go.
Lady Montague has two concerns in this entire play: keeping her husband out of fights and knowing where her son is. Both concerns are well-founded.
Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe.
Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe.
thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe.
thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe.
The Prince (Escalus) speaks in formal, authority-laden verse — every line is a proclamation. He represents the law that the feud keeps breaking. Watch for how his three appearances each mark an escalation of consequences.
Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace,
Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,—
Will they not hear? What, ho! You men, you beasts,
That quench the fire of your pernicious rage
With purple fountains issuing from your veins,
On pain of torture, from those bloody hands
Throw your mistemper’d weapons to the ground
And hear the sentence of your moved prince.
Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word,
By thee, old Capulet, and Montague,
Have thrice disturb’d the quiet of our streets,
And made Verona’s ancient citizens
Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments,
To wield old partisans, in hands as old,
Canker’d with peace, to part your canker’d hate.
If ever you disturb our streets again,
Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.
For this time all the rest depart away:
You, Capulet, shall go along with me,
And Montague, come you this afternoon,
To know our farther pleasure in this case,
To old Free-town, our common judgement-place.
Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.
Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,— Will they not hear? What, ho! You men, you beasts, That quench the fire of your pernicious rage With purple fountains issuing from your veins, On pain of torture, from those bloody hands Throw your mistemper’d weapons to the ground And hear the sentence of your moved prince. Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word, By you, old Capulet, and Montague, Have thrice disturb’d the quiet of our streets, And made Verona’s ancient citizens Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments, To wield old pareisans, in hands as old, Canker’d with peace, to pare your canker’d hate. If ever you disturb our streets again, Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace. For this time all the rest depare away: You, Capulet, shall go along with me, And Montague, come you this afternoon, To know our fareher pleasure in this case, To old Free-town, our common judgement-place. Once more, on pain of death, all men depare.
rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, profaners o...
rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, profaners of this nei
Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach?
Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?
Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach? Speak, nephew, wbefore you by when it began?
who set this ancient quarrel new abroach? speak, nephew, wbefore you by when it began?
who set this ancient quarrel new abroach? speak, nephew, wer
Here were the servants of your adversary
And yours, close fighting ere I did approach.
I drew to part them, in the instant came
The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepar’d,
Which, as he breath’d defiance to my ears,
He swung about his head, and cut the winds,
Who nothing hurt withal, hiss’d him in scorn.
While we were interchanging thrusts and blows
Came more and more, and fought on part and part,
Till the Prince came, who parted either part.
Hbefore wbefore the servants of your adversary And yours, close fighting before I did approach. I drew to pare them, in the instant came The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepar’d, Which, as he breath’d defiance to my ears, He swung about his head, and cut the winds, Who nothing hurt withal, hiss’d him in scorn. While we wbefore interchanging thrusts and blows Came more and more, and fought on pare and pare, Till the Prince came, who pareed either pare.
hbefore wbefore the servants of your adversary and...
here were the servants of your adversary and yours, close fi
Rosaline is one of Shakespeare's most interesting non-characters: she appears nowhere in the play, never speaks, never acts, and yet she shapes everything. She's a Capulet (we'll learn she's on the guest list for the party), she's sworn to chastity, and she's currently in possession of Romeo's entire emotional life. Scholars have argued about her for centuries. Some see her as proof that Romeo's love is shallow — he forgets her the moment he sees Juliet. Others argue she represents exactly the kind of unreachable courtly ideal that Elizabethan love poetry celebrated, and that Romeo's switch to Juliet is the play's way of saying real love isn't like a sonnet. Either way: Romeo spends the entire first scene devoted to a woman who never appears, and the rest of the play devoted to one he met twelve minutes ago. That's worth sitting with.
O where is Romeo, saw you him today?
Right glad I am he was not at this fray.
O whbefore is Romeo, saw you him today? Right glad I am he was not at this fray.
o whbefore is romeo, saw you him today? right glad i am he was not at this fray.
o where is romeo, saw you him today? right glad i am he was
Madam, an hour before the worshipp’d sun
Peer’d forth the golden window of the east,
A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad,
Where underneath the grove of sycamore
That westward rooteth from this city side,
So early walking did I see your son.
Towards him I made, but he was ware of me,
And stole into the covert of the wood.
I, measuring his affections by my own,
Which then most sought where most might not be found,
Being one too many by my weary self,
Pursu’d my humour, not pursuing his,
And gladly shunn’d who gladly fled from me.
Madam, an hour before the worshipp’d sun Peer’d forth the golden window of the east, A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad, Whbefore underneath the grove of sycamore That westward rooteth from this city side, So early walking did I see your son. Towards him I made, but he was ware of me, And stole into the covert of the wood. I, measuring his affections by my own, Which then most sought whbefore most might not be found, Being one too many by my weary self, Pursu’d my humour, not pursuing his, And gladly shunn’d who gladly fled from me.
madam, an hour before the worshipp’d sun peer’d fo...
madam, an hour before the worshipp’d sun peer’d forth the go
Many a morning hath he there been seen,
With tears augmenting the fresh morning’s dew,
Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs;
But all so soon as the all-cheering sun
Should in the farthest east begin to draw
The shady curtains from Aurora’s bed,
Away from light steals home my heavy son,
And private in his chamber pens himself,
Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out
And makes himself an artificial night.
Black and portentous must this humour prove,
Unless good counsel may the cause remove.
Many a morning has he thbefore been seen, With tears augmenting the fresh morning’s dew, Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs; But all so soon as the all-cheering sun Should in the farehest east begin to draw The shady curtains from Aurora’s bed, Away from light steals home my heavy son, And private in his chamber pens himself, Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out And makes himself an areificial night. Black and portentous must this humour prove, Unless good counsel may the cause remove.
many a morning has he thbefore been seen, with tea...
many a morning hath he there been seen, with tears augmentin
My noble uncle, do you know the cause?
My noble uncle, do you know the cause?
my noble uncle, do you know the cause?
my noble uncle, do you know the cause?
I neither know it nor can learn of him.
I neither know it nor can learn of him.
i neither know it nor can learn of him.
i neither know it nor can learn of him.
Have you importun’d him by any means?
Have you importun’d him by any means?
have you importun’d him by any means?
have you importun’d him by any means?
Both by myself and many other friends;
But he, his own affections’ counsellor,
Is to himself—I will not say how true—
But to himself so secret and so close,
So far from sounding and discovery,
As is the bud bit with an envious worm
Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air,
Or dedicate his beauty to the sun.
Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow,
We would as willingly give cure as know.
Both by myself and many other friends; But he, his own affections’ counsellor, Is to himself—I will not say how true— But to himself so secret and so close, So far from sounding and discovery, As is the bud bit with an envious worm Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, Or dedicate his beauty to the sun. Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow, We would as willingly give cure as know.
both by myself and many other friends; but he, his...
both by myself and many other friends; but he, his own affec
See, where he comes. So please you step aside;
I’ll know his grievance or be much denied.
See, whbefore he comes. So please you step aside; I’ll know his grievance or be much denied.
see, whbefore he comes. so please you step aside; i’ll know his grievance or be much denied.
see, where he comes. so please you step aside; i’ll know his
I would thou wert so happy by thy stay
To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let’s away,
I would you wert so happy by your stay To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let’s away,
i would you wert so happy by your stay to hear true shrift. come, madam, let’s away,
i would thou wert so happy by thy stay to hear true shrift.
Good morrow, cousin.
Good morrow, cousin.
good morrow, cousin.
good morrow, cousin.
Romeo speaks in extremes — oxymorons, paradoxes, borrowed Petrarchan conceits. His emotional register goes from 0 to 100 with no warning. Watch for how even his grief is performative, and then watch that change.
Is the day so young?
Is the day so young?
is the day so young?
is the day so young?
But new struck nine.
But new struck nine.
but new struck nine.
but new struck nine.
Ay me, sad hours seem long.
Was that my father that went hence so fast?
Ay me, sad hours seem long. Was that my father that went hence so fast?
ay me, sad hours seem long. was that my father that went hence so fast?
ay me, sad hours seem long. was that my father that went hen
It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo’s hours?
It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo’s hours?
it was. what sadness lengthens romeo’s hours?
it was. what sadness lengthens romeo’s hours?
Not having that which, having, makes them short.
Not having that which, having, makes them short.
not having that which, having, makes them short.
not having that which, having, makes them short.
In love?
In love?
in love?
in love?
Out.
Out.
out.
out.
Of love?
Of love?
of love?
of love?
Out of her favour where I am in love.
Out of her favour whbefore I am in love.
out of her favour whbefore i am in love.
out of her favour where i am in love.
Alas that love so gentle in his view,
Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof.
Alas that love so gentle in his view, Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof.
alas that love so gentle in his view, should be so tyrannous and rough in proof.
alas that love so gentle in his view, should be so tyrannous
The play doesn't open with Romeo, or with the families, or with the Prince. It opens with two servants with swords swaggering into each other's path. Shakespeare's choice to begin here is deliberate: the feud isn't an aristocratic abstraction. It's a violence that colonizes every level of society, right down to the lowest servants who fight and die for a cause their masters invented and forgot. Sampson and Gregory's crude jokes aren't just comic relief — they're the feud stripped of all its romance and nobility, revealing what it actually is: posturing, aggression, and the sexual humiliation of women used as a proxy for dominance. The feud's bottom half isn't pretty. And it sets the tone for everything the noble families do above it.
Alas that love, whose view is muffled still,
Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will!
Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here?
Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.
Here’s much to do with hate, but more with love:
Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate!
O anything, of nothing first create!
O heavy lightness! serious vanity!
Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms!
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health!
Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!
This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
Dost thou not laugh?
Alas that love, whose view is muffled still, Should, wiyout eyes, see pathways to his will! Whbefore shall we dine? O me! What fray was hbefore? Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all. Hbefore’s much to do with hate, but more with love: Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate! O anything, of nothing first create! O heavy lightness! serious vanity! Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms! Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health! Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is! This love feel I, that feel no love in this. Dost you not laugh?
alas that love, whose view is muffled still, shoul...
alas that love, whose view is muffled still, should, without
No coz, I rather weep.
No coz, I rather weep.
no coz, i rather weep.
no coz, i rather weep.
Good heart, at what?
Good heare, at what?
good heare, at what?
good heart, at what?
At thy good heart’s oppression.
At your good heare’s oppression.
at your good heare’s oppression.
at thy good heart’s oppression.
Why such is love’s transgression.
Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast,
Which thou wilt propagate to have it prest
With more of thine. This love that thou hast shown
Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.
Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs;
Being purg’d, a fire sparkling in lovers’ eyes;
Being vex’d, a sea nourish’d with lovers’ tears:
What is it else? A madness most discreet,
A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.
Farewell, my coz.
Why such is love’s transgression. Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast, Which you wilt propagate to have it prest With more of thine. This love that you hast shown Doth add more grief to too much of mine own. Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs; Being purg’d, a fire sparkling in lovers’ eyes; Being vex’d, a sea nourish’d with lovers’ tears: What is it else? A madness most discreet, A choking gall, and a preserving sweet. Farewell, my coz.
why such is love’s transgression. griefs of mine o...
why such is love’s transgression. griefs of mine own lie hea
Soft! I will go along:
And if you leave me so, you do me wrong.
Soft! I will go along: And if you leave me so, you do me wrong.
soft! i will go along: and if you leave me so, you do me wrong.
soft! i will go along: and if you leave me so, you do me wro
Tut! I have lost myself; I am not here.
This is not Romeo, he’s some other where.
Tut! I have lost myself; I am not hbefore. This is not Romeo, he’s some other whbefore.
tut! i have lost myself; i am not hbefore. this is not romeo, he’s some other whbefore.
tut! i have lost myself; i am not here. this is not romeo, h
Tell me in sadness who is that you love?
Tell me in sadness who is that you love?
tell me in sadness who is that you love?
tell me in sadness who is that you love?
What, shall I groan and tell thee?
What, shall I groan and tell you?
what, shall i groan and tell you?
what, shall i groan and tell thee?
Groan! Why, no; but sadly tell me who.
Groan! Why, no; but sadly tell me who.
groan! why, no; but sadly tell me who.
groan! why, no; but sadly tell me who.
Bid a sick man in sadness make his will,
A word ill urg’d to one that is so ill.
In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.
Bid a sick man in sadness make his will, A word ill urg’d to one that is so ill. In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.
bid a sick man in sadness make his will, a word il...
bid a sick man in sadness make his will, a word ill urg’d to
I aim’d so near when I suppos’d you lov’d.
I aim’d so near when I suppos’d you lov’d.
i aim’d so near when i suppos’d you lov’d.
i aim’d so near when i suppos’d you lov’d.
A right good markman, and she’s fair I love.
A right good markman, and she’s fair I love.
a right good markman, and she’s fair i love.
a right good markman, and she’s fair i love.
A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit.
A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit.
a right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit.
a right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit.
Well, in that hit you miss: she’ll not be hit
With Cupid’s arrow, she hath Dian’s wit;
And in strong proof of chastity well arm’d,
From love’s weak childish bow she lives uncharm’d.
She will not stay the siege of loving terms
Nor bide th’encounter of assailing eyes,
Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold:
O she’s rich in beauty, only poor
That when she dies, with beauty dies her store.
Well, in that hit you miss: she’ll not be hit With Cupid’s arrow, she has Dian’s wit; And in strong proof of chastity well arm’d, From love’s weak childish bow she lives uncharm’d. She will not stay the siege of loving terms Nor bide th’encounter of assailing eyes, Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold: O she’s rich in beauty, only poor That when she dies, with beauty dies her store.
well, in that hit you miss: she’ll not be hit with...
well, in that hit you miss: she’ll not be hit with cupid’s a
Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?
Then she has sworn that she will still live chaste?
then she has sworn that she will still live chaste?
then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?
She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste;
For beauty starv’d with her severity,
Cuts beauty off from all posterity.
She is too fair, too wise; wisely too fair,
To merit bliss by making me despair.
She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow
Do I live dead, that live to tell it now.
She has, and in that sparing makes huge waste; For beauty starv’d with her severity, Cuts beauty off from all posterity. She is too fair, too wise; wisely too fair, To merit bliss by making me despair. She has forsworn to love, and in that vow Do I live dead, that live to tell it now.
she has, and in that sparing makes huge waste; for...
she hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste; for beauty s
Be rul’d by me, forget to think of her.
Be rul’d by me, forget to think of her.
be rul’d by me, forget to think of her.
be rul’d by me, forget to think of her.
O teach me how I should forget to think.
O teach me how I should forget to think.
o teach me how i should forget to think.
o teach me how i should forget to think.
By giving liberty unto thine eyes;
Examine other beauties.
By giving liberty unto thine eyes; Examine other beauties.
by giving liberty unto thine eyes; examine other beauties.
by giving liberty unto thine eyes; examine other beauties.
’Tis the way
To call hers, exquisite, in question more.
These happy masks that kiss fair ladies’ brows,
Being black, puts us in mind they hide the fair;
He that is strucken blind cannot forget
The precious treasure of his eyesight lost.
Show me a mistress that is passing fair,
What doth her beauty serve but as a note
Where I may read who pass’d that passing fair?
Farewell, thou canst not teach me to forget.
’Tis the way To call hers, exquisite, in question more. These happy masks that kiss fair ladies’ brows, Being black, puts us in mind they hide the fair; He that is strucken blind cannot forget The precious treasure of his eyesight lost. Show me a mistress that is passing fair, What does her beauty serve but as a note Whbefore I may read who pass’d that passing fair? Farewell, you canst not teach me to forget.
’tis the way to call hers, exquisite, in question ...
’tis the way to call hers, exquisite, in question more. thes
I’ll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt.
I’ll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt.
i’ll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt.
i’ll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt.
The Reckoning
The play opens not with its stars but with their servants — two low-ranking men swaggering into a fight they barely understand, for a cause that has nothing to do with them. By the time the noble families rush in, then the Prince, then the worried parents searching for Romeo, the audience has felt the whole weight of Verona's feud in miniature. What lingers is the image of Romeo alone at dawn, walking away from the light — a young man already half in love with his own melancholy.
If this happened today…
Imagine two interns at rival tech firms — both working on competing apps — running into each other in a Starbucks. They start trading insults on behalf of their CEOs, which turns into shoving, which empties the whole cafe, which forces the mayor to come on live TV and announce that if either company's employees cause another public scene, both founders face charges. Meanwhile, one founder's parents are quietly texting each other: 'Have you seen our son? He didn't come home last night and he's been posting sad playlists again.'