| Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt’s death. | Paris-dramatic irony |
| For Venus smiles not in a house of tears. | Paris-mythological allusion |
| Happily met, my lady and my wife! | Paris |
| That may be sir, when I may be a wife. | Juliet-verbal irony |
| Do not deny to him that you love me. | Paris |
| I will confess to you that I love him. | Juliet |
| Thy face is mine, and thou hast sland’red it. | Paris |
| It may be so, for it is not mine own. | Juliet-dramatic irony |
| O, shut the door, and when thou hast done so, come weep with me-past hope, past care, past help! | Juliet |
| Tell me not, friar that thou hearest of this, unless thou tell me how I may prevent it. If in thy wisdom thou canst give no help, do thou but call my resolution wise and with this knife I’ll help it presently. | Juliet-foreshadowing |
| Give me some present counsel; or, behold, twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife shall play the umpire, arbitrating that which the commission of thy years and art could to no issue of true honor bring. Be not so long to speak. I long to die if what thou speak’st speak not of remedy | Juliet-approximate rhyme |
| I do shy a kind of hope, which craves as desperate an execution as that is desperate which we could prevent. | Friar |
| O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris. From off the battlements of any tower, or walk in thievish ways, or bid me lurk where serpents are; chain me with roaring bears, or hide me nightly in a charnel house, o’ercovered quite with dead men’s rattling bones, with reeky shanks and yellow chapless skulls, or bid me go into a new-made grave and hide me with a dead man in his shroud-things that, to hear them told, have made me tremble | Juliet-hyperboles |
| I’ll send a friar with speed to Mantua, with my letters to thy lord. | Friar |
| Hold, then. Go home, be merry, give consent to marry Paris. Wednesday is tomorrow. Tomorrow night look that thou lie alone; let not the nurse lie with thee in thy chamber. Take thou this vial, being then in bed, and this distilling liquor drink thou off | Friar-three steps of plan |
| Thou shalt continue two-and-forty hours, and then awake as from a pleasant sleep. | Friar |
| Shall Romeo by my letters know our drift; and hither shall he come; and he and I will watch thy walking, and that very night shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua. And this shall free thee from this present shame, if no inconstant toy nor womanish fear abate thy valor in the acting it. | Friar |
| Give me, give me! O, tell me not of fear! | Juliet |
| I’ll send a friar with speed to Mantua, with my letters to thy lord. | Friar Lawrence |
| If they can lick their fingers. | Servingman |
| ‘Tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers therefore he that cannot lick his fingers goes not with me. | Servingman |
| How now, my headstrong? | Capulet-Epithet |
| Pardon, I beseech you! Henceforward I am ever ruled by you. | Juliet |
| I’ll have this knot knit up tomorrow morning. | Capulet |
| Now, afore God, this reverend holy friar, all our whole city is much bound to him. | Capulet-Irony |
| Tush, I will stir about, and all things shall be well, I warrant thee, wife. Go thou Juliet, help to deck up her. I’ll not to bed tonight; let me alone. I’ll play the housewife for this once. What, ho! | Capulet |
| I pray thee leave me to myself; for I have need if many orisons. | Juliet |
| 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 hand full all in this so sudden business. | Juliet |
| I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins that almost freezes up the heat of life. | Juliet-foreshadowing(part of soliloquy) |
| What if this mixture do not work at all? Shall I be married then tomorrow morning? No, no! This shall forbid it. Lie thou there. What if it be a poison which the friar subtly hath minist’red to have me dead, lest in this marriage he should be dishonored because he married me before to Romeo? | Juliet-foreshadowing(part of soliloquy) |
| How if, when I am laid into the tomb, I wake before the time that Romeo comer to redeem me? There’s a fearful point! Shall I not then be stifled in the vault, to whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in, and there die strangled ere my Romeo comes? | Juliet-foreshadowing(part of soliloquy) |
| Methinks I see my cousin’s ghost seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body upon a rapier’s point. | Juliet-foreshadowing |
| Ay, you have been a mouse hunt in your time: but I will watch you from such watching now. | Lady Capulet |
| Sleep for a week; for the next night, I warrant, the County Paris hath set up his rest that you shall rest but little. Ay, let the County take you in your bed; he’ll fright you up, i’ faith. Will it not be? | Nurse |
| Sirrah, fetch drier logs | Capulet-pun |
| I have a head, sir, that will find out logs | Second fellow-pun |
| Thou shalt be loggerhead | Capulet-pun |
| My child, my only life! Revive, look up, or I will die with thee! | Lady Capulet |
| Death lies on her like an untimely frost upon the sweetest flower of all the field. | Capulet-simile |
| Death, that hath ta’en her hence to make me wail, ties up my tounge and will not let me speak. | Capulet-personification |
| O son, the night before thy wedding day hath Death lain with thy wife. 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. | Capulet-persnoification |
| Most detestable Death, by thee beguiled, by cruel, cruel thee quite overthrown. | Paris-personification |
| Dead art thou-alack, my child is dead, and with my child my joys are buried! | Capulet |
| Heaven and yourself had part in this fair maid-now heaven hath all, and all the better it is for the maid. Your part in her you could not keep from death, but heaven keeps his part in eternal life. | Friar |
| All things that we ordained festival turn from their office to black funeral-our instruments to melancholy bells, our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast; our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change, our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse; | Capulet-situational irony |
| I will carry no crotchets. I’ll re you, I’ll fa you. Do you note me? | Peter-pun |
| And you re us and fa us, you note us. | First musician-pun |
| Why “silver sound”? Why “music with her silver sound”? What say you, Simon Catling? | Peter-Pun |
| Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound. | First musician-pun |
| I say “silver sound” because musicians sound for silver. | Second musician-pun |
| It is “music with her silver sound” | Peter-pun |
| My dreams presage some joyful news at hand. | Romeo |
| I dreamt my lady came and found me dead (Strange dream that gives a dead man leave to think!) and breathed such life with kisses in my lips that I revived and was an emperor. | Romeo-Inverted ending |
| Then she is well, and nothing can be ill. Her body sleeps in Capels’ monument. And her immortal part with angels lives. | Man-situational irony |
| Then I defy you, stars! | Romeo |
| Hast thou no letters to me from the friar? | Romeo |
| No matter. Get thee gone. | Romeo-verbal irony |
| Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee tonight. | Romeo-Foreshadowing |
| I do remember an apothecary | Romeo |
| Hold, there is forty ducats. Let me have a dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear as I will disperse itself through all the veins that the life-weary taker may fall dead | Romeo |
| Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua’s law is death to any he that utters them. | Apothecary |
| Famine is in thy cheeks, need and oppression starveth in thy eyes. Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back: the world is not thy friend, nor the world’s law; the world affords no law to make thee rich; then not poor, but break it and take this. | Romeo |
| My poverty but not my will consents. | Apothecary |
| There is thy gold-worse poison to men’s soul, doing more murder in this loathsome world, than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell. I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none. | Romeo |
| Going to find a barefoot brother out, one of our order, to associate me here in this city visiting the sick, and finding him, the searchers of the town, suspecting that we both were in a house where the infectious pestilence did reign, sealed up the doors, and would not let us forth, | Friar John |
| Get me an iron crow and bring it straight unto my cell. | Friar |
| Unhappy fortune! By my brotherhood, the letter was not nice. | Friar-oxymoron |
| Now must I to the monument alone. Within this three hours will fair Juliet wake. She will beshrew me much that Romeo hath had no notice of these accidents; but I will write again to Mantua, and keep her at my cell tell Romeo come- poor living corpse, closed in a dead man’s tomb! | Lawrence-oxymoron |
| for I would not be seen. under yond yew trees all along. | Paris |
| Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal bed I strew(O woe! thy canopy is dust and stones) which with sweet water nightly I will dew; or, wanting that, with tears distilled by moans. | Paris-Metaphor |
| Hold, take this letter. Early in the morning see thou deliver it to my lord and father. | Romeo |
| Why I descend into this bed of death is partly to behold my lady’s face, but chiefly to take thence from her dead finger a precious ring-a ring that I must use in dear employment. | Romeo |
| By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint and strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs. | Romeo-Personification |
| For all this same, I’ll hide me hereabout, His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt. | Balthasar-Aside |
| Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death, gorged with the dearest morsel of the earth, thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open, and in despite I’ll cram thee with more food. | Romeo-Personification-Metaphor |
| And here is come to do some villainous shame to the dead bodies. | Paris |
| Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee. Obey, and go with me; for thou must die. | Paris |
| Good gentle youth, tempt not a desp’rate man. Fly hence and leave me. Think upon these gone; | Romeo |
| By heaven, I love thee better than myself, for I come hither armed against myself. | Romeo |
| O, I am slain! If thou be merciful, open the tomb, lay me with Juliet. | Paris |
| Mercutio’s kinsman, noble County Paris! | Romeo |
| I’ll bury thee in a triumphant grave. A grave? O, no, a lanthron, slaught’red youth, for here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes this vault a feasting presence full of light. Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interred. | Romeo |
| 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. | Romeo-death imagery-dramatic irony-personification |
| Ah, dear Juliet, why art thou yet so fair? Shall I believe that unsubstantial Death is amorous, and that lean abhorred monster keeps thee here in dark to be his paramour? | Romeo-personification |
| Here, here will I remain with worms that are thy chambermaids. | Romeo-metaphor |
| Come, bitter conduct; come, unsavory guide! Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on dashing rocks thy seasick weary bark! Here’s to my love! O true apothecary! Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die. | Romeo-nautical imagery-pun |
| Here my old feet stumbled at graves! | Friar-foreshadowing |
| I dare not, sir. My master knows not but I am gone hence, and fearfully did menace me with death if I did stay to look on his intents. | Balthasar |
| As I did sleep under this yew tree here, I dreamt my master and another fought, and that my master slew him. | Balthasar-Dramatic Irony |
| Where is my lord? I do remember well where I should be. And there I am. | Juliet |
| Lady, come from that nest of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep. | Friar |
| Come, I’ll dispose of thee among a sisterhood of holy nuns, | Friar |
| Come, go, good Juliet. I dare no longer stay. | Friar |
| Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end. O churl! Drunk all, and left no friendly drop to help me after? I will kiss thy lips. Haply some poison yet doth hang on them to make me die with a restorative. Thy lips are warm! | Juliet |
| This is thy sheath; there rust, and let me die. | Juliet-metaphor |
| Pitiful sight! Here lies the County slain; and Juliet bleeding, warm, and newly dead. Who here hath lain this two days buried. Go, tell the Prince; run to the Capulets; raise up the Montagues; some others search. | Chief watchman |
| A great suspicion! Stay the friar too. | Chief watchman |
| Here is a friar, and slaughtered Romeo’s man, with instruments upon them fit to open these dead men’s tombs. | Chief watchman |
| This dagger hath mista’en for, lo, his house is empty on the back of Montague, and it missheathed in my daughter’s bosom! | Capulet |
| O me, this sight of death is as a bell that warns my old age to a sepulcher. | Lady Capulet-Simile |
| Alas, my liege, my wife is dead tonight! Grief of my son’s exile hath stopped her breath. What further woe conspires against mine age? | Montague |
| Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while, till we can clear these ambiguities and know their spring, their head, their true descent; | Prince |
| I am the greatest, able to do least, yet most suspected, as the time and place doth make me, of this direful murder; and here I stand, both to impeach and purge myself condemned and myself excused. | Friar |
| We still have known thee for a holy man. | Prince |
| This letter he early bid me gave his father, and threat’ned me with death, going in the vault, if I departed not and left him there. | Balthasar |
| He came with flowers to strew his lady’s grave; and bid me stand aloof, and so I did. | Boy |
| This letter doth make good the friar’s words, their course of love, the tidings of her death; and here he writes that he did buy a poison of a poor pothecary and therewithal came to this vault to die and lie with Juliet. Where be these enemies? Capulet, Montague. 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 kindsmen. All are punished. | Prince |
| O brother Montague, give me thy hand. This is my daughter’s jointure, for no more can I demand. | Capulet |
| For I will raise her statue in pure gold, that whiles Verona by that name is known, there shall no figure at such rate be set, as that of true and faithful Juliet. | Montague |
| As rich shall Romeo’s by his lady’s lie-poor sacrifices of our enmity! | Capulet |
| The sun for sorrow will not show his head. | Prince |
| Some shall be pardoned, and some punished; for never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo. | Prince-Rhyming couplet |
Romeo and Juliet Act 4&5
December 31, 2019