Come, is the bride ready to go to church?


CAPULET.

Ready to go, but never to return.

O son, the night before thy wedding day

Hath death lain with thy bride. There she lies,

Flower as she was, deflowered by him.

Death is my son-in-law, death is my heir;

My daughter he hath wedded. I will die.

And leave him all; life, living, all is death’s.


PARIS.

Have I thought long to see this morning’s face,

And doth it give me such a sight as this?


LADY CAPULET.

Accurs’d, unhappy, wretched, hateful day.

Most miserable hour that e’er time saw

In lasting labour of his pilgrimage.

But one, poor one, one poor and loving child,

But one thing to rejoice and solace in,

And cruel death hath catch’d it from my sight.


NURSE.

O woe! O woeful, woeful, woeful day.

Most lamentable day, most woeful day

That ever, ever, I did yet behold!

O day, O day, O day, O hateful day.

Never was seen so black a day as this.

O woeful day, O woeful day.


PARIS.

Beguil’d, divorced, wronged, spited, slain.

Most detestable death, by thee beguil’d,

By cruel, cruel thee quite overthrown.

O love! O life! Not life, but love in death!


CAPULET.

Despis’d, distressed, hated, martyr’d, kill’d.

Uncomfortable time, why cam’st thou now

To murder, murder our solemnity?

O child! O child! My soul, and not my child,

Dead art thou. Alack, my child is dead,

And with my child my joys are buried.


FRIAR LAWRENCE.

Peace, ho, for shame. Confusion’s cure lives not

In these confusions. Heaven and yourself

Had part in this fair maid, now heaven hath all,

And all the better is it for the maid.

Your part in her you could not keep from death,

But heaven keeps his part in eternal life.

The most you sought was her promotion,

For ’twas your heaven she should be advanc’d,

And weep ye now, seeing she is advanc’d

Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself?

O, in this love, you love your child so ill