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Juliet's bedroom. We see a large bed draped with white see-through material. There is a small nightstand next to the bed. In the background can be seen the window that leads out onto the balcony. |
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Juliet |
Ay, those attires are best: but, gentle nurse, |
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I pray thee, leave me to myself to-night, |
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For I have need of many orisons |
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To move the heavens to smile upon my state, |
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Which, well thou know'st, is cross, and full of sin. |
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Lady Capulet |
What, are you busy, ho? need you my help? |
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Juliet |
No, madam; we have cull'd such necessaries |
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As are behoveful for our state to-morrow: |
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So please you, let me now be left alone, |
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And let the nurse this night sit up with you; |
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For, I am sure, you have your hands full all, |
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In this so sudden business. |
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Get thee to bed, and rest; for thou hast need. |
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Exeunt LADY CAPULET and NURSE |
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Juliet |
Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again. |
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I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins, |
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That almost freezes up the heat of life: |
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I'll call them back again to comfort me: |
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Nurse! What should she do here? |
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My dismal scene I needs must act alone. |
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Shall I be married then to-morrow morning? |
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No, no: this shall forbid it: lie thou there. |
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What if it be a poison, which the friar |
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Subtly hath minister'd to have me dead, |
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Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd, |
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Because he married me before to Romeo? |
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I fear it is: and yet, methinks, it should not, |
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For he hath still been tried a holy man. |
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How if, when I am laid into the tomb, |
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I wake before the time that Romeo |
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Come to redeem me? there's a fearful point! |
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Shall I not, then, be stifled in the vault, |
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To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in, |
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And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes? |
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Or, if I live, is it not very like, |
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The horrible conceit of death and night, |
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Together with the terror of the place,-- |
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As in a vault, an ancient receptacle, |
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Where, for these many hundred years, the bones |
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Of all my buried ancestors are packed: |
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Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth, |
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Lies festering in his shroud; where, as they say, |
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At some hours in the night spirits resort;-- |
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Alack, alack, is it not like that I, |
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So early waking, what with loathsome smells, |
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And shrieks like mandrakes' torn out of the earth, |
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That living mortals, hearing them, run mad:-- |
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O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught, |
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Environed with all these hideous fears? |
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And madly play with my forefather's joints? |
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And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud? |
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And, in this rage, with some great kinsman's bone, |
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As with a club, dash out my desperate brains? |
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O, look! methinks I see my cousin's ghost |
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Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body |
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Upon a rapier's point: stay, Tybalt, stay! |
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Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee. |
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She falls upon her bed, within the curtains |
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