English Final: Act 3 Quotes
Terms in this set (36)
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
Romeo, the hate I bear thee can afford, No better term
than this,thou art a villain.
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 know'st me not.
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 tender, As dearly as my own,be satisfied.
Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage! The prince
expressly hath Forbidden bandying in Verona streets.
Hold I am hurt. A plague o' both your houses! I am sped.
No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a
churchdoor; but 'tis enough,'twill serve: ask for me tomorrow, and you shall find
me a grave man.
Thy beauty hath made me effeminate And in my temper
soften'd valour's steel!
Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child! O prince! O
cousin! husband! O, the blood is spilt O my dear kinsman! Prince, as thou art true,
For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague. O cousin, cousin!
Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?
When he 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.
I have bought the mansion of a love, But not possess'd it,
and, though I am sold, Not yet enjoy'd: so tedious is this day As is the night
before some festival To an impatient child that hath new robes And may not wear
What devil art thou, that dost torment me thus? This
torture should be roar'd in dismal hell. Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but 'I,'
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;
Blister'd be thy tongue For such a wish! he was not born
to shame: Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit; For 'tis a throne where honour
may be crown'd Sole monarch of the universal earth. O, what a beast was I to
chide at him!
O, find him! give this ring to my true knight, And bid him
come to take his last farewell.
A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips, Not body's
death, but body's banishment
Ha, banishment! be merciful, say 'death;' For exile hath
more terror in his look, Much more than death: do not say 'banishment.'
There is no world without Verona walls, But purgatory,
torture, hell itself.
Even so lies she, Blubbering and weeping, weeping and
blubbering. Stand up, stand up; stand, and you be a man: For Juliet's sake, for her
sake, rise and stand
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 are thou happy too: The law that threaten'd death becomes thy friend
And turns it to exile; there art thou happy: A pack of blessings lights up upon thy
O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps; And now
falls on her bed; and then starts up, And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries,
And then down falls again.
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 time To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends...
We'll keep no great ado,a friend or two; For, hark you,
Tybalt being slain so late, It may be thought we held him carelessly, Being our kinsman, if we revel much: Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends, And there an end. But what say you to Thursday?
My lord, I would that Thursday were tomorrow.
Tis very late, she'll not come down tonight: I promise
you, but for your company, I would have been abed an hour ago... I will, and know her mind early tomorrow; Tonight she is mew'd up to her heaviness.
These times of woe afford no time to woo.
Madam, good night: commend me to your daughter.
Farewell, farewell! one kiss, and I'll descend.
O God, I have an illdivining soul! Methinks I see thee,
now thou art below, As one dead in the bottom of a tomb: Either my eyesight
fails, or thou look'st pale.
Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death, As that
the villain lives which slaughter'd him.
I'll send to one in Mantua,Where that same banish'd
runagate doth live, Shall give him such an unaccustom'd dram, That he shall soon
keep Tybalt company: And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied.
Indeed, I never shall be satisfied With Romeo, till I behold
himdead Is my poor heart for a kinsman vex'd.
Now, by Saint Peter's Church and Peter too, He shall not
make me there a joyful bride. I wonder at this haste; that I must wed Ere he, that
should be husband, comes to woo.
Ay, sir; but she will none, she gives you thanks.
I would the fool were married to her grave!
Thursday is near; lay hand on heart, advise: An you be mine,
I'll give you to my friend; And you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in the streets,
For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee, Nor what is mine shall never do thee
good: Trust to't, bethink you; I'll not be forsworn.
Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word: Do as thou wilt, for I
have done with thee.
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