Jennifer Ancheta

 Theme Quotation Explanation “These violent delights have violent ends And in their triump die, like fire and powder Which, as they kiss, consume” “My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite.” “thus with a kiss I die” “Don't waste your love on somebody, who doesn't value it.” “Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow,  That I shall say good night till it be morrow.”  “For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo.” “Do not swear by the moon, for she changes constantly. then your love would also change.” “Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?”  “Romeo: If I profane with my unworthiest hand This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. Juliet: Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, Which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss. Romeo: Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too? Juliet: Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer. Romeo: O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair. Juliet: Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake. Romeo: Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take. Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged. Juliet: Then have my lips the sin that they have took. Romeo: Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again. Juliet: You kiss by the book.”  “Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast.” “O serpent heart hid with a flowering face! Did ever a dragon keep so fair a cave? Beautiful tyrant, feind angelical, dove feather raven, wolvish-ravening lamb! Despised substance of devinest show, just opposite to what thou justly seemest - A dammed saint, an honourable villain!” “Two households, both alike in dignity In fair Verona, where we lay our scene From ancient grudge break to new mutiny Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.  From forth the fatal loins of these two foes A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life  Whose misadventured piteous overthrows Do with their death bury their parents' strife.”  “Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs.” “O teach me how I should forget to think (1.1.224)” “Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-browed night; Give me my Romeo; and, when I 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...”  “Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall say goodnight till it be morrow.”  “See how she leans her cheek upon her hand.  O, that I were a glove upon that hand  That I might touch that cheek!” “What's in a name? that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet.” Theme Quotation Explanation “Women may fall when there's no strength in men. Act II” “These violent delights have violent ends.” “Go wisely and slowly. Those who rush stumble and fall.” “I defy you, stars.” “O, here Will I set up my everlasting rest, And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last! Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss A dateless bargain to engrossing death!”  “Oh, I am fortune's fool!”  “Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate! O any thing, 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.”  “You are a lover. Borrow Cupid's wings and soar with them above a common bound.”  “Under loves heavy burden do I sink. --Romeo”  “My only love sprung from my only hate.” “Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs; Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; Being vexed, a sea nourished with loving tears. What is it else? A madness most discreet, A choking gall, and a preserving sweet. *Here’s what love is: a smoke made out of lovers' sighs. When the smoke clears, love is a fire burning in your lover’s eyes. If you frustrate love, you get an ocean made out of lovers' tears. What else is love? It’s a wise form of madness. It’s a sweet lozenge that you choke on.*” “A glooming peace this morning with it brings; The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head: Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished: For never was a story of more woe Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.”  “Love moderately. Long love doth so. Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. *Love each other in moderation. That is the key to long-lasting love. Too fast is as bad as too slow.*”  “Romeo: I dreamt a dream tonight. Mercutio: And so did I. Romeo: Well, what was yours? Mercutio: That dreamers often lie. Romeo: In bed asleep while they do dream things true.”  “Peace? I hate the word as I hate hell and all Montagues.”  Theme Quotation Explanation “But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?  It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.  Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,  Who is already sick and pale with grief,  That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she.  Be not her maid, since she is envious;  Her vestal livery is but sick and green  And none but fools do wear it; cast it off. It is my lady, O, it is my love! Oh, that she knew she were!”  “Tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers.”  “A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”  “turn him into stars and form a constellation in his image. His face will make the heavens so beautiful that the world will fall in love with the night and forget about the garish sun.”  “O! she doth teach the torches to burn bright  It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night  Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear;  Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear. - Romeo -”  “Eyes, look your last!  Arms, take your last embrace!  And, lips, oh you the doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss a dateless bargain to engrossing death!”  “How art thou out of breath when thou hast breath To say to me that thou art out of breath?”  “One fire burns out another's burning, One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish.”  “Out of her favour, where I am in love.”  “We burn daylight.”  “Well, in that hit you miss. She'll not be hit With Cupid's arrow. She hath Dian's wit, And, in strong proff of chastity well armed, From Love's weak childish bow she lives uncharmed.  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 is rich in beauty; only poor That, when she dies, with dies her store. Act 1,Scene 1, lines 180-197”  “He jests at scars that never felt a wound.”  “Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.” “Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.” “These violent delights have violent ends And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, Which as they kiss consume. The sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness And in the taste confounds the appetite. Therefore love moderately; long love doth so; Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.”  “I must be gone and live, or stay and die.”  “Take it in what sense thou wilt.” “Educated men are so impressive!”  “Benvolio: What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours? Romeo: Not having that, which, having, makes them short.”  “The sweetest honey is loathsome in its own deliciousness. And in the taste destroys the appetite. Therefore, love moderately.” “Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! *It’s sad. Love looks like a nice thing, but it’s actually very rough when you experience it.*”  “Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?”  “One pain is lessened by another’s anguish. ... Take thou some new infection to thy eye, And the rank poison of the old will die.”  “it is my lady! *sighs* o, it is my love! o, that she knew she were! she speaks, yet she sais nothing. what of that? her eye discourses; i will answer it. i am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks; two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, having some business, do entreat her eyes to twinkle in their spheres till they return.”  “Give me my sin again.”  “Love goes toward love as schoolboys from their books, But love from love, toward school with heavy looks.” “He that is strucken blind can not forget the precious treasure of his eyesight lost.”  “true apothecary thy drugs art quick” “Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life; Whole misadventured piteous overthrows Do with their death bury their parents' strife. The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love, And the continuance of their parents' rage, Which, but their children's end, nought could remove, Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage; The which if you with patient ears attend, What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.”  “It’s easy for someone to joke about scars if they’ve never been cut.” “O, swear not by the moon, th’ inconstant moon, That monthly changes in her circle orb, Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.”  “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 any thing, of nothing first create! O heavy lightness! Serious vanity! Mis-shapen 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?”  “Ay me! sad hours seem long.” “And where two raging fires meet together, they do consume the thing that feeds their fury.”  “Not proud you have, but thankful that you have. Proud can I never be of what I hate, but thankful even for hate that is meant love.”  “O my love, my wife! Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.”  “William Shakespeare (baptised 26 April 1564 – died 23 April 1616) was an English poet and playwright, widely regarded as the greatest writer in the English language and the world's pre-eminent dramatist. He is often called England's national poet and the "Bard of Avon" (or simply "The Bard"). His surviving works consist of 38 plays, 154 sonnets, two long narrative poems, and several other poems. His plays have been translated into every major living language, and are performed more often than those of any other playwright. Shakespeare was born and raised in Stratford-upon-Avon. At the age of 18 he married Anne Hathaway, who bore him three children: Susanna, and twins Hamnet and Judith. Between 1585 and 1592 he began a successful career in London as an actor, writer, and part owner of the playing company the Lord Chamberlain's Men, later known as the King's Men. He appears to have retired to Stratford around 1613, where he died three years later. Few records of Shakespeare's private life survive, and there has been considerable speculation about such matters as his sexuality, religious beliefs, and whether the works attributed to him were written by others. Shakespeare produced most of his known work between 1590 and 1613. His early plays were mainly comedies and histories, genres he raised to the peak of sophistication and artistry by the end of the sixteenth century. Next he wrote mainly tragedies until about 1608, including Hamlet, King Lear, and Macbeth, considered some of the finest examples in the English language. In his last phase, he wrote tragicomedies, also known as romances, and collaborated with other playwrights. Many of his plays were published in editions of varying quality and accuracy during his lifetime, and in 1623 two of his former theatrical colleagues published the First Folio, a collected edition of his dramatic works that included all but two of the plays now recognised as Shakespeare's. Shakespeare was a respected poet and playwright in his own day, but his reputation did not rise to its present heights until the nineteenth century. The Romantics, in particular, acclaimed Shakespeare's genius, and the Victorians hero-worshipped Shakespeare with a reverence that George Bernard Shaw called "bardolatry". In the twentieth century, his work was repeatedly adopted and rediscovered by new movements in scholarship and performance. His plays remain highly popular today and are consistently performed and reinterpreted in diverse cultural and political contexts throughout the world. Source: Wikipedia”  “A plague on both your houses.” “I dreamt my lady came and found me dead . . . . . . . . . . . . And breathed such life with kisses in my lips That I revived and was an emperor.”  “Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff; Life and these lips have long been separated: Death lies on her like an untimely frost Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.”  “Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day: It was the nightingale, and not the lark, That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear; Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree: Believe me, love, it was the nightingale. Rom. It was the lark, the herald of the morn, No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east: Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops: I must be gone and live, or stay and die. Jul. Yon light is not daylight, I know it, I: It is some meteor that the sun exhales, To be to thee this night a torch-bearer, And light thee on thy way to Mantua: Therefore stay yet; thou need'st not to be gone, Rom. Let me be ta'en,, let me be put to death; I am content, so thou wilt have it so. I'll say yon grey is not the morning's eye, 'T is but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow; Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat The vaulty heaven so high above our heads: I have more care to stay than will to go: Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so, How is't my soul? let's talk; it is not day. Jul. It is, it is; hie hence, be gone, away! It is the lark that sings so out of tune, Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps. Some say the lark makes sweet division; This doth not so, for she divideth us: Some say the lark and loathed toad change eyes; O! now I would they had changed voices too, Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray, Hunting thee hence with hunt's up to the day. O! now be gone; more light and light it grows. Rom. More light and light; more dark and dark our woes.” “It were a grief so brief to part with thee. Farewell.”  “Care keeps his watch in every old man’s eye, And where care lodges, sleep will never lie.”  “These sudden joys have sudden endings. They burn up in victory like fire and gunpowder.” “I will make thee think thy swan a crow.” “If love be rough with you, be rough with love; Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down. Give me a case to put my visage in: A visor for a visor! what care I What curious eye doth quote deformities? Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me.” “Can I go forward when my heart is here?” “I have a soul of lead So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.”  “Parting is such sweet sorrow”  “Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe.” “O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name, or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I'll no longer be a Capulet.”  “Some grief shows much of love, But much of grief shows still some want of wit.”  “for Mercutio's soul Is but a little way above our heads, Staying for thine to keep him company: Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him.” “Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye Than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet, And I am proof against their enmity.”  “But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she. . . . The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars As daylight doth a lamp; her eye in heaven Would through the airy region stream so bright That birds would sing and think it were not night.”  “It is my soul that calls upon my name; How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, like softest music to attending ears! -Romeo”  “These times of woe afford no time to woo.” “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, Pursued my humor not pursuing his, And gladly shunned who gladly fled from me.”  “Oh, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope’s ear, Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear. So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows. The measure done, I’ll watch her place of stand, And, touching hers, make blessèd my rude hand. Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night. *Oh, she shows the torches how to burn bright! She stands out against the darkness like a jeweled earring hanging against the cheek of an African. Her beauty is too good for this world; she’s too beautiful to die and be buried. She outshines the other women like a white dove in the middle of a flock of crows. When this dance is over, I’ll see where she stands, and then I’ll touch her hand with my rough and ugly one. Did my heart ever love anyone before this moment? My eyes were liars, then, because I never saw true beauty before tonight.*”  “One fairer than my love? The all-seeing sun Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun.” “Love is a smoke rais'd 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.” “I take thee at thy word: Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized; Henceforth I never will be Romeo.”  “There's no trust, No faith, no honesty in men; all perjured, All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.” “They are but beggars that can count their worth.” “Of one that lov'd not wisely but too well.” “What light through yonder window breaks?” “ROMEO There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls, Doing more murders in this loathsome world, Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell. I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none. Farewell: buy food, and get thyself in flesh. Come, cordial and not poison, go with me To Juliet's grave; for there must I use thee.”  “You're in love? Out Out of love? I love someone. She doesn't love me.”  “Ready to go but never to return.” “Romeo: Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much. Mercutio: No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church-door; but 'tis enough, 'twill serve. Ask for me tomorrow, and you shall find me a grave man.”  “O true apothecary! Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die” “Affliction is enamoured of thy parts,  And thou art wedded to calamity.” “What man art thou that, thus bescreened in night, So stumblest on my counsel? *Who are you? Why do you hide in the darkness and listen to my private thoughts?*” “The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law. - Romeo” “Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she. . . .” “What must be shall be.”  “But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou her maid art far more fair than she: Be not her maid, since she is envious; Her vestal livery is but sick and green And none but fools do wear it; cast it off. It is my lady, O, it is my love! O, that she knew she were! She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that? Her eye discourses; I will answer it. I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks: Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business, do entreat her eyes To twinkle in their spheres till they return. What if her eyes were there, they in her head? The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven Would through the airy region stream so bright That birds would sing and think it were not night. See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek!”  “The Brightness of her cheek would shame those stars as daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven would through the airy region stream so bright that birds would sing, and think it were not night.”  “There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls, Doing more murder in this loathsome world, Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell.” “La vida es mi tortura y la muerte será mi descanso.” “Seek happy nights to happy days.W”  “He that hath the steerage of my course, Direct my sail.”  “In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond...” “Mercutio: "If love be rough with you, be rough with love;” “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.” “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 raised with the fume of sighs; Being purged, 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.”  “Did my heart love 'til now?” “where civil blood makes civil hands unclean” “How much salt water thrown away in waste/ To season love, that of it doth not taste.”  “O, then I see Queen Mab hath been with you. . . . She is the fairies’ midwife, and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate stone On the forefinger of an alderman, Drawn with a team of little atomi Athwart men’s noses as they lie asleep.”  “From forth the fatal loins of these two foes  A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life, Whose misadventured piteous overthrows  Doth with their death bury their parents’ strife. . . .  O, I am fortune’s fool! . . .  Then I defy you, stars.”  “I would forget it fain, But oh, it presses to my memory, Like damnèd guilty deeds to sinners' minds.”  “You lie.” “And too soon Marred are those so early Made.” “Can I go forward when my heart is here? Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out.”  “Death lies on her like an untimely frost Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.”  “Unless philosophy can make a Juliet, Displant a town, reverse a prince’s doom, It helps not, it prevails not.” “Out, you tallow-face! You baggage!” “The grey-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night, Chequering the eastern clouds with streaks of light, And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels From forth day's path and Titan's fiery wheels: Now, ere the sun advance his burning eye, The day to cheer and night's dank dew to dry, I must up-fill this osier cage of ours With baleful weeds and precious-juiced flowers. The earth that's nature's mother is her tomb; What is her burying grave that is her womb, And from her womb children of divers kind We sucking on her natural bosom find, Many for many virtues excellent, None but for some and yet all different. O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities: For nought so vile that on the earth doth live But to the earth some special good doth give, Nor aught so good but strain'd from that fair use Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse: Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied; And vice sometimes by action dignified. Within the infant rind of this small flower Poison hath residence and medicine power: For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part; Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart. Two such opposed kings encamp them still In man as well as herbs, grace and rude will; And where the worser is predominant, Full soon the canker death eats up that plant.”  “True, I talk of dreams; which are children of the idle brain, begot of nothing but vain fantasy; which is as thin of substance as air and more inconstant than the wind.”  “But soft,what light yonder window breaks...” “What's in a name?” “O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art as glorious to this night, being o'er my head, as is a winged messenger of heaven Unto the white-upturned wond'ring eyes Of mortals fall back to gaze on him.”  “ABRAHAM: Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? SAMPSON [Aside to Gregory]: Is the law of our side, if I say ay? GREGORY [Aside to Sampson]: No. SAMPSON: No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but I bite my thumb, sir.” “True, I talk of dreams, Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy, Which is as thin of substance as the air And more inconstant than the wind...”  “What art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? Turn thee Benvolio, look upon thy death.”  “Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries that  Thou hast done to me. Therefore turn and draw.” “Oh, God! I have an ill-divining soul!” “What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet”  “Therefore love moderately: long love doth so; Too swift as tardy as too slow.”  “Have I thought long to see this morning’s face, And doth it give me such a sight as this?” “Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, Towards Phoebus' lodging: such a wagoner As Phaethon would whip you to the west, And bring in cloudy night immediately. Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night, That runaway's eyes may wink and Romeo Leap to these arms, untalk'd of and unseen. Lovers can see to do their amorous rites By their own beauties; or, if love be blind, It best agrees with night. Come, civil night, Thou sober-suited matron, all in black, And learn me how to lose a winning match, Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods: Hood my unmann'd blood, bating in my cheeks, With thy black mantle; till strange love, grown bold, Think true love acted simple modesty. Come, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night; For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night Whiter than new snow on a raven's back. Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow'd night, Give me my Romeo; and, 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. O, 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 them. O, here comes my nurse, And she brings news; and every tongue that speaks But Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence.”  “[...] my heart is wondrous light, Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim'd.” “Thou canst not speak of thou dost not feel.”  “For doting, not for loving, pupil mine.”  “If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.” “A peevish self-willed harlotry it is. *She’s a stubborn little brat.*” “For you and I are past our dancing days”  “Yes, madam: yet I cannot choose but laugh, To think it should leave crying and say 'Ay.' And yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow A bump as big as a young cockerel's stone; A parlous knock; and it cried bitterly: 'Yea,' quoth my husband,'fall'st upon thy face? Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age; Wilt thou not, Jule?' it stinted and said 'Ay.”  “I have more care to stay than will to go.”  “wert thou as far As that vast shore washed with the farthest sea, I would adventure for such merchandise.”  “to early seen unknown...and known to late”  “She is rich in beauty.”  “Enough no more; Tis not so sweet now as it was before.” “Friar Laurence: O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities:  For nought to vile that on the earth doth live,  But to the earth some special good doth give; nor aught so good, but, strain'd from that fair use, Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse:  Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied,  And vice sometime's by action dignified.”  “Afore me! It is so very late, That we may call it early by and by.”  “If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep, My dreams presage some joyful news at hand: My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne; And all this day an unaccustom'd spirit Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts. 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. Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess'd, When but love's shadows are so rich in joy!” “Die Welt ist nirgends außer diesen Mauern; Nur Fegefeuer, Qual, die Hölle selbst. Von hier verbannt, ist aus der Welt verbannt, Und solcher Bann ist Tod: Drum gibst du ihm Den falschen Namen. - Nennst du Tod Verbannung, Enthauptest du mit goldnem Beile mich Und lächelst zu dem Streich, der mich ermordet. There is no world without Verona walls, But purgatory, torture, hell itself. Hence banishèd is banished from the world, And world's exile is death. Then "banishèd" Is death mistermed. Calling death "banishèd", Thou cuttest my head off with a golden axe And smilest upon the stroke that murders me. Romeo: Act III, Scene 3”  “Eyes, look your last;  Arms, take your last embrace; and lips, O you, The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss A dateless bargain to engrossing Death.”  “Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can, It cannot countervail the exchange of joy That one short minute gives me in her sight: Do thou but close our hands with holy words, Then love-devouring death do what he dare; It is enough I may but call her mine.” “O shut the door! and when thou hast done so, Come weep with me; past hope, past cure, past help!”  “Zu früh, befürcht ich; denn mein Herz erbangt Und ahnet ein Verhängnis, welches, noch Verborgen in den Sternen, heute Nacht Bei dieser Lustbarkeit den furchtbarn Zeitlauf Beginnen und das Ziel des läst'gen Lebens, Das meine Brust verschließt, mir kürzen wird Durch irgendeinen Frevel frühen Todes. Doch er, der mir zur Fahrt das Steuer lenkt, Richt' auch mein Segel! I fear, too early. For my mind misgives Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars, Shall bitterly begin his fearful date With this night's revels, and expire the term Of a despisèd life, closed in my breast, By some vile forfeit of untimely death. But He that hath the steerage of my course Direct my sail! Romeo: Act I, Scene 4”  “Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.” “she shall scant show well that now shows best.” “What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?” “The world is not thy friend nor the world’s law.” “Well, we were born to die.”  “Sometimes we punish ourselves the most.” “O happy dagger! This is thy sheath; there rust, and let me die.” “I would I were thy bird.” “Either thou or I, or both, must go with him.” “love's heralds should be thoughts, Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams, Driving back shadows over louring hills: Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love, And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings.”  “Romeo: I dreamt a dream tonight. Mercutio: And so did I. Romeo: Well, what was yours? Mercutio: That dreamers often lie.”  “There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk.” “My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.”  “O then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do: They pray: grant thou, lest faith turn to dispair.” “and when he shall die” “Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy Be heaped like mine, and that thy skill be more To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath This neighbours air, and let rich music’s tongue Unfold the imagined happiness that both  Receive in either by this dear encounter.”  “What sadness lengthens Romeo’s hours?”  “A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life; Whole misadventured piteous overthrows Do with their death bury their parents' strife.” “She has vowed never to love: and that vow means I must endure a living death.”  “ROMEO: ... Under love’s heavy burden do I sink. MERCUTIO: And, to sink in it, should you burden love; Too great oppression for a tender thing. ROMEO: Is love a tender thing? it is too rough, Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn. MERCUTIO: If love be rough with you, be rough with love; Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down. “To move is to stir; and to be valiant is to stand: therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away.”  “A tko si ti, što tu pod plaštem noći U tajne moje misli prodireš?”  “JULIET: How art thou out of breath, when thou hast breath To say to me that thou art out of breath? The excuse that thou dost make in this delay Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse.”  “Patience perforce with willful choler meeting/Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting./I will withdraw, but this intrusion shall,/Now seeming sweet, convert to bitt'rest gall.”  “Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life; Whole misadventured piteous overthrows Do with their death bury their parents' strife. The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love, And the continuance of their parents' rage, Which, but their children's end, nought could remove, Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage; The which if you with patient ears attend, What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.”  “FRIAR LAURENCE: Holy Saint Francis, what a change is here! Is Rosaline, whom thou didst love so dear, So soon forsaken? young men’s love then lies Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.” “The world is not thy friend” “What say you, can you love the gentleman? This night you shall behold him at our feast. Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face, And find delight writ there with beauty's pen; Examine every married lineament, And see how one another lends content; And what obscured in this fair volume lies Find written in the margent of his eyes. This precious book of love, this unbound lover, To beautify him only lacks a cover. The fish lives in the sea, and 'tis much pride For fair without the fair within to hide. That book in many's eyes doth share the glory, That in gold clasps locks in the golden story. So shall you share all that he doth possess, By having him, making yourself no less.”  “Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou hadst been poor-John.”  “And jocund day stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops...” “Now old desire doth in his death-bed lie, And young affection gapes to be his heir; That fair for which love groan'd for and would die, With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair. Now Romeo is beloved and loves again, Alike betwitched by the charm of looks, But to his foe supposed he must complain, And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks: Being held a foe, he may not have access To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear; And she as much in love, her means much less To meet her new-beloved any where: But passion lends them power, time means, to meet Tempering extremities with extreme sweet.” “I talk of dreams, which are the children of an idle brain’.” “And too soon marr'd are those so early made. The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she, She is the hopeful lady of my earth: But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart, My will to her consent is but a part; An she agree, within her scope of choice Lies my consent and fair according voice. This night I hold an old accustom'd feast, Whereto I have invited many a guest, Such as I love; and you, among the store, One more, most welcome, makes my number more. At my poor house look to behold this night Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light: Such comfort as do lusty young men feel When well-apparell'd April on the heel Of limping winter treads, even such delight Among fresh female buds shall you this night Inherit at my house; hear all, all see, And like her most whose merit most shall be: Which on more view, of many mine being one May stand in number, though in reckoning none, Come, go with me.”  “I am fortunes fool.”  “O teach me how I should forget to think.” “men's eyes were made to look and let them gaze”  “Perdonados serán unos, castigados otros; pues jamás hubo tan lamentable historia como la de Julieta y su Romeo.”  “FRIAR LAURENCE: Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak a word. ROMEO: O, thou wilt speak again of banishment. FRIAR LAURENCE: I’ll give thee armour to keep off that word: Adversity’s sweet milk, philosophy, To comfort thee, though thou art banished. ROMEO: Yet “banished”? Hang up philosophy! Unless philosophy can make a Juliet, Displant a town, reverse a prince’s doom, It helps not, it prevails not: talk no more. FRIAR LAURENCE: O, then I see that madmen have no ears. ROMEO: How should they, when that wise men have no eyes? FRIAR LAURENCE: Let me dispute with thee of thy estate. ROMEO: Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel: Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love, An hour but married, Tybalt murdered, Doting like me and like me banished, Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair, And fall upon the ground, as I do now, Taking the measure of an unmade grave.”  “They stumble that run fast.”  “Juliet: Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake. Romeo: Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take. Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged. Juliet: Then have my lips the sin that they have took. Romeo: Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.”  “I defy you, stars!”  “Thou talk'st of nothing." "True, I talk of dreams, Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasty; Which is as thin of substance as the air; And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes Even now the frozen bosom of the north, And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, Turning his face t the dew-dropping south.” “When the devout religion of mine eye Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires, And these, who, often drowned, could never die, Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars! One fairer than my love? The all-seeing sun Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun. “What is it else? A madness most discreet, A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.”  “Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day: It was the nightingale, and not the lark, That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear; Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree: Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.”  “Then I defy you, stars!”  “ROMEO: A torch for me: let wantons light of heart Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels, For I am proverb’d with a grandsire phrase; I’ll be a candle-holder, and look on. The game was ne’er so fair, and I am done. MERCUTIO: Tut, dun’s the mouse, the constable’s own word: If thou art dun, we’ll draw thee from the mire Of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stick’st Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho! ROMEO: Nay, that’s not so. MERCUTIO: I mean, sir, in delay We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day. Take our good meaning, for our judgement sits Five times in that ere once in our five wits. ROMEO: And we mean well in going to this mask; But ’tis no wit to go. MERCUTIO: Why, may one ask? ROMEO: I dream’d a dream to-night. MERCUTIO: And so did I. ROMEO: Well, what was yours? MERCUTIO: That dreamers often lie. ROMEO: In bed asleep, while they do dream things true. MERCUTIO: O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you. She is the fairies’ midwife, and she comes.”  “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, And all things change them to the contrary.” “was an English poet and playwright, widely regarded as the greatest writer in the English language and the world's pre-eminent dramatist. He is often called England's national poet and the "Bard of Avon" (or simply "The Bard"). His surviving works consist of 38 plays, 154 sonnets, two long narrative poems, and several other poems. His plays have been translated into every major living language, and are performed more often than those of any other playwright. Shakespeare was born and raised in Stratford-upon-Avon. At the age of 18 he married Anne Hathaway, who bore him three children: Susanna, and twins Hamnet and Judith. Between 1585 and 1592 he began a successful career in London as an actor, writer, and part owner of the playing company the Lord Chamberlain's Men, later known as the King's Men. He appears to have retired to Stratford around 1613, where he died three years later. Few records of Shakespeare's private life survive, and there has been considerable speculation about such matters as his sexuality, religious beliefs, and whether the works attributed to him were written by others. Shakespeare produced most of his known work between 1590 and 1613. His early plays were mainly comedies and histories, genres he raised to the peak of sophistication and artistry by the end of the sixteenth century. Next he wrote mainly tragedies until about 1608, including Hamlet, King Lear, and Macbeth, considered some of the finest examples in the English language. In his last phase, he wrote tragicomedies, also known as romances, and collaborated with other playwrights. Many of his plays were published in editions of varying quality and accuracy during his lifetime, and in 1623 two of his former theatrical colleagues published the First Folio, a collected edition of his dramatic works that included all but two of the plays now recognised as Shakespeare's. Shakespeare was a respected poet and playwright in his own day, but his reputation did not rise to its present heights until the nineteenth century. The Romantics, in particular, acclaimed Shakespeare's genius, and the Victorians hero-worshipped Shakespeare with a reverence that George Bernard Shaw called "bardolatry". In the twentieth century, his work was repeatedly adopted and rediscovered by new movements in scholarship and performance. His plays remain highly popular today and are consistently performed and reinterpreted in diverse cultural and political contexts throughout the world. Source: Wikipedia”  “Away with the joint-stools, remove the court-cupboard, look to the plate. Good thou, save me a piece of marchpane; and, as thou lovest me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell. Antony, and Potpan!”  “Nay, I'll conjure too. Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover! Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh: Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied; Cry but 'Ay me!' pronounce but 'love' and 'dove;' Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word, One nick-name for her purblind son and heir, Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim, When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid! He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not; The ape is dead, and I must conjure him. I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes, By her high forehead and her scarlet lip, By her fine foot, straight leg and quivering thigh And the demesnes that there adjacent lie, That in thy likeness thou appear to us!”  “ROMEO: ...I have more care to stay than will to go.”  “LADY CAPULET: Evermore weeping for your cousin’s death? What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears? An if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live; Therefore, have done: some grief shows much of love; But much of grief shows still some want of wit. JULIET: Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss. LADY CAPULET: So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend Which you weep for. JULIET: Feeling so the loss, Cannot choose but ever weep the friend. LADY CAPULET: Well, girl, thou weep’st not so much for his death, As that the villain lives which slaughter’d him.”  “In love? Out- Of love? Out of her favour where I am in love.”  “Ay, while you live, draw your neck out o' the collar.”  “Ai! Em teus olhos há maior perigo do que em vinte punhais dos teus parentes. Olha-me com doçura, e é quanto basta para me deixar invulnerável ao ódio deles.” “Aquí está el oro, peor veneno para el alma; en este mundo asesina mucho más que las tristes mezclas que no puedes vender. Soy yo quien te vende veneno, no tú a mí.”  “Bear hence this body and attend our will. Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.” “The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven Would through the airy region stream so bright That birds would sing, and think it were not night. See how she leans her cheek upon her hand. O that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek.”  “what? drawn and talk of peace? I hate the word as I hate Hell, all Montagues, and thee”  “FRIAR LAURENCE: Hold thy desperate hand: Art thou a man? thy form cries out thou art: Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denote The unreasonable fury of a beast: Unseemly woman in a seeming man! Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both! Thou hast amazed me: by my holy order, I thought thy disposition better temper’d. Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself? And stay thy lady too that lives in thee, By doing damned hate upon thyself? Why rail’st thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth? Since birth, and heaven, and earth, all three do meet In thee at once; which thou at once wouldst lose. Fie, fie, thou shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit; Which, like a usurer, abound’st in all, And usest none in that true use indeed Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit: Thy noble shape is but a form of wax, Digressing from the valour of a man; Thy dear love sworn but hollow perjury, Killing that love which thou hast vow’d to cherish; Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love, Misshapen in the conduct of them both, Like powder in a skitless soldier’s flask, Is set afire by thine own ignorance, And thou dismember’d with thine own defence. What, rouse thee, man! 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 back; Happiness courts thee in her best array; But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench, Thou pout’st upon thy fortune and thy love: Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable. 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, Beg pardon of the prince, and call thee back With twenty hundred thousand times more joy Than thou went’st forth in lamentation. Go before, nurse: commend me to thy lady; And bid her hasten all the house to bed, Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto: Romeo is coming.”  “CAPULET: ...Well, we were born to die.”  “By love that first did prompt me to inquire; He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes. I am no pilot, yet wert thou as far As that vast shore washed with the farthest sea, I should adventure for such merchandise.” “Sometime [Queen Mab] driveth o'er a soldier's neck,  And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats, Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, Of healths five fathom deep; and then anon Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes, And being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two And sleeps again”  “¡Oh, Romeo, Romeo! ¿Por qué eres Romeo? Renuncia a tu padre, abjura tu nombre; o, si no quieres esto, jura solamente amarme y ceso de ser una Capuleto.”  “I will beat thee into handsomeness”  “sonnets”  “who bore him three children”  “Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; take it in what sense tou whilt.”  “for naught so vile on the Earth doth live, but to the Earth some special good doth give”  “She refuses to be hit with Cupid's arrow. Shielded by the armor of chastity, she can't be charmed by words of love. She won't be assaulted by loving eyes, and she won't accept gifts of gold.”  “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 raised with the fume of sighs; Being purged, 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.” “OH ROMEO. THOU ART ROMEO. WILL YOU MARRY ME. THOU ART ROMEO.”  “Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Servant” “Giulietta - E così te ne vai, amore mio, mio signore, mio sposo, mio amico, mio tutto! Voglio avere tue notizie ogni giorno dell'ora, sì, dell'ora, ci sono molti giorni in un minuto... Ahimè, a contare il tempo in questo modo, chi sa quanti anni avrò prima di rivedere il mio Romeo!”  “Therefore love moderately. Long love doth so. Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.”  “test me quote”  “the hate I bear thee can afford no better term then this: thou art a villian.” “Gregory, o' my word, we'll not carry coals.” “Whats in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet”  “É quase dia; desejara que já tivesses ido, não mais longe porém, do que a travessa menina deixa o meigo passarinho que das mãos ela solta - tal qual pobre prisioneiro na corda bem torcida - para logo puxá-lo novamente pelo fio de seda, tão ciumenta e amorosa é de sua liberdade.”  “They are but beggars that can count their worth; But my true love is grown to such excess I cannot sum up half of my wealth.” “A madness most discreet, A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.” “[...] Villain I am none. Therefore farewell. I see thou knowest me not.”  “strive”  “unwelcome”  “FRIAR LAURENCE: These violent delights have violent ends And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, Which as they kiss consume: the sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness And in the taste confounds the appetite: Therefore love moderately; long love doth so; Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.”  “«¡Romeo, desterrado!»”  “JULIET: ...And palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.”  “MERCUTIO: Thou art like one of those fellows that when he enters the confines of a tavern claps me his sword upon the table and says “God send me no need of thee!” and by the operation of the second cup draws it on the drawer, when indeed there is no need. BENVOLIO: Am I like such a fellow? MERCUTIO: Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in Italy, and as soon moved to be moody, and as soon moody to be moved. BENVOLIO: And what to? MERCUTIO: Nay, an there were two such, we should have none shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why, thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more, or a hair less, in his beard, than thou hast: thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes: what eye but such an eye would spy out such a quarrel? Thy head is as fun of quarrels as an egg is full of meat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg for quarrelling: thou hast quarrelled with a man for coughing in the street, because he hath wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun: didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet before Easter? with another, for tying his new shoes with old riband? and yet thou wilt tutor me from quarrelling! BENVOLIO: An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man should buy the fee-simple of my life for an hour and a quarter. MERCUTIO: The fee-simple! O simple!” “JULIET: Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake. ROMEO: Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take. Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged. JULIET: Then have my lips the sin that they have took. ROMEO: Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again. JULIET: You kiss by the book.” “Cut him out in little stars.”  “BENVOLIO: Come, he hath hid himself among these trees, To be consorted with the humorous night: Blind is his love and best befits the dark. MERCUTIO: If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.”  “Romeu, Romeu! Ah! Porque és tu Romeu? Renega o pai, despoja-te do nome; ou então, se não quiseres juro ao menos que amor me tens, porque uma Capuleto deixarei de ser logo.”  “JULIET: ’Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What’s Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part Belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What’s in a name? that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet; So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d, Retain that dear perfection which he owes Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name which is no part of thee Take all myself. ROMEO: I take thee at thy word: Call me but love, and I’ll be new baptized; Henceforth I never will be Romeo. JULIET: What man art thou that thus bescreen’d in night So stumblest on my counsel? ROMEO: By a name I know not how to tell thee who I am: My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, Because it is an enemy to thee; Had I it written, I would tear the word. JULIET: My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words Of that tongue’s utterance, yet I know the sound:”  “Pero, alto. ¿Qué luz alumbra esa ventana? Es el oriente, y Julieta, el sol. Sal, bello sol, y mata a la luna envidiosa, que está enferma y pálida de pena porque tú, que la sirves, eres más hermoso.” “O be some other name.”  “ROMEO: I have night’s cloak to hide me from their sight; And but thou love me, let them find me here: My life were better ended by their hate, Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.”  “من أراد الحياة فعليه أن يحل عنقه من كل عقدة .”  “JULIETA ¡Ah, no jures por la luna, esa inconstante que cada mes cambia en su esfera, no sea que tu amor resulte tan variable.”  “William” “Dolor moderado indica amor; dolor en exceso, pura necedad.” “Ven, noche gentil, noche tierna y sombría, dame a mi Romeo y, cuando yo muera, córtalo en mil estrellas menudas: lucirá tan hermoso el firmamento que el mundo, enamorado de la noche, dejará de adorar al sol hiriente.”  “Só o teu amor é o inimigo.  Ti es ti, aínda que sexas un Montesco.  ¿Que é un Montesco? Non é man, nin pé, nin brazo, nin cara, nin parte ningunha  do corpo. ¡Cambia o nome! ¿Que é un nome? O que chamamos rosa,  con outro nome tería o mesmo recendo. Se Romeo non se chamase Romeo, conservaría a súa mesma perfección  sen ese título. Romeo, rexeita ese nome  que non forma parte de ti e a cambio tómame a min.”  “But Montague is bound as well as I, In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think, For men so old as we to keep the peace.”  “London as an actor, writer, and part owner of the playing company the”  “What man art thou that thus bescreen'd in night so stumblest on my counsel?” “For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring.”  “Escalus, Prince of Verona. Paris, a young Nobleman, kinsman to the Prince. Montague,}Heads of two Houses at variance with each other. Capulet, } An Old Man, Uncle to Capulet. Romeo, Son to Montague. Mercutio, Kinsman to the Prince, and Friend to Romeo. Benvolio, Nephew to Montague, and Friend to Romeo. Tybalt, Nephew to Lady Capulet.”  “At this same ancient feast of Capulet's Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lov'st, With all the admired beauties of Verona. Go thither, and with unattainted eye, Compare her face with some that I shall show, And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.”  “«O! be some other name:  What’s in a name? that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet; So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d, Retain that dear perfection which he owes   Without that title.» -Act II, scene II”  “FRIAR LAURENCE:... O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities: For nought so vile that on the earth doth live But to the earth some special good doth give, Nor aught so good but strain’d from that fair use Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse: Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied; And vice sometimes by action dignified. Within the infant rind of this small flower Poison hath residence and medicine power: For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part; Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart. Two such opposed kings encamp them still In man as well as herbs, grace and rude will; And where the worser is predominant, Full soon the canker death eats up that plant.”  “Come, we burn daylight, ho!” “Love is a smoke made with fume of sighs; Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;”  “ROMEO: Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you? MERCUTIO: The slip, sir, the slip; can you not conceive?”  “وهل الحب رقيق؟ انه خشن , وقح , صاخب! وله وخز مثل الأشواك” “Strange dream, that gives a dead man leave” “¡Lastima del amor! A pesar de la venda que lleva, ve, aun sin ojos, la manera de lograr su proposito”  “A clemência seria assassina, se perdoasse os que matam.” “Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow, we would as willingly give cure as know.”  “El amor es humo hecho de vapor de suspiros; si halla consumacion, es fuego chispeante en los ojos enamorados, de lo contrario, trocase en un mar de lagrimas enamoradas” “strike.”  “مسكينة يا جثة بها حياة! إذ أغلقوا عليك قبر ميت!”  “No, for then we should be colliers.” “CAPULET: Ready to go, but never to return. 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.”  “Now Romeo is beloved, and loves again, Alike bewitched by the charm of looks.”  “FRIAR LAURENCE:... 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 advanced: And weep ye now, seeing she is advanced Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself? O, in this love, you love your child so ill, That you run mad, seeing that she is well: She’s not well married that lives married long; But she’s best married that dies married young.”  “Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light: Such comfort as do lusty young men feel When well-apparell'd April on the heel Of limping winter treads, even such delight Among fresh female buds shall you this night Inherit at my house; hear all, all see, And like her most whose merit most shall be:”  “Брат Лоренцо: О сын мой, должен быть гоним тоской Тот, кто так рано расстается с ложем. ("Ромео и Джульетта", У. Шекспир)”  “Тъга по туй, което съкращава — щом имам го — тез същи часове. - Любов? - Обратното!  - Вражда тогава? - Любов, която без ответ зове!” “Омразата, аз виждам, действа вещо. Но любовта и тя е страшно нещо: любов — жестока ласка, нежен яд, от хаоса новосъздаден свят, пух тежък, леден пламък, болно здраве невярваща си вяра, сън наяве — такваз е в мене, братовчеде, тази любов, която своя пламък мрази!” “¿Sabia yo lo qué es amor? -Ojos jurad que no. Porque nunca había visto una belleza así.”  “Be not so long to speak; I long to die,” “Аз казвам, господине, че от умуване нощта ще мине. Най-умното накрая си остава: по-малко ум и повече забава!”  “Узнах го късно, за да се опазя, обикнах го, преди да го намразя — вещае ми — усещам — кръв и мрак таз обич към заклетия ми враг!”  “If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep, My dreams presage some joyful news at hand. My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne; And all this day an unaccustomed spirit Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.” “Не с вик — със заклинание ще го измъкна: Ромео! Дух! Любовнико! Глупако! Яви ни се поне като въздишка! Кажи „уви!“ и знак ни направи! Един куплет мухлясал изрови! Римувай „зов“ с „любов“ и за Венера изкарай две-три думи от килера на комплиментите;”  “Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days.”  “إنه مستخف بين هذه الأشجار ، ليلائم بين نفسه وبين هذا الليل الرطب الغامض. إن حبه لأعمى وإن الظلمة لخبر ما يلائم العمى .”  “speculation”  “sophistication”  “Nós nascemos para morrer”  “To move is to stir; and to be valiant is to stand”  “A terra, que é a mãe da natureza, é também o seu túmulo: aquilo que a esta serve de sepulcro é o seu ventre materno. Filhos de toda a espécie nascidos do seu ventre encontramos nós sugando nos seus seios. A maior parte são dotados de excelentes virtudes; nenhum há que não tenha o seu mérito, e contudo todos são diferentes. Oh! quão eficaz é a graça que reside nas plantas, nas ervas, nas pedras e nas suas qualidades reais. Não há nada sobre a terra que seja tão vil que lhe não preste um serviço especial, mas nada há também que seja tão bom que, desviado do seu legítimo fim, se não revolte contra a sua verdadeira origem e não caia no mal. A própria virtude se torna em vício quando mal aplicada, e o vício é às vezes nobilitado pela ação. Dentro do tenro cálix desta flor residem um veneno e uma virtude medicinal: porque, quando aspirada, o seu odor regala os sentidos; mas, quando bebida, mata-os, ao mesmo tempo que mata o coração. Duas potências inimigas lutam sem cessar tanto no homem como nas plantas: graça e perversidade. Ora, quando prevalece a pior, depressa o verme da morte vem devorar essa planta.”  “El amor es humo, soplo de suspiros: se esfuma, y es fuego en ojos que aman; refrénalo, y crece como un mar de lágrimas. ¿Qué cosa es, si no? Locura juiciosa, amargor que asfixia, dulzor que conforta.”  “إنما الهم حارس ساهر في عيون الشيوخ ، وحيث استقر الهم ، فلا موضع للنوم”  “What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”  “Puis-je aller plus loin quand mon coeur est ici?”  “من لم تؤذه الجراح قط يهزأ من الندوب .”  “Mas...devagarinho! Qual é a luz que brilha através daquela janela? é o oriente, e Julieta é o Sol. Ergue-te, ó Sol resplandecente, e mata a lua invejosa, que já está fraca e pálida de dor ao ver que tu, sua sacerdotisa, és mais bela do que ela própria” “Romeo:Senin dudaklarınla, dudaklarım günahtan arındı.  Juliet:Öyleyse şimdi günah dudaklarımda kaldı.  Romeo:Öyleyse ver bana günahımı geri”  “ROMEO : 'Tis torture and not mercy. Heaven is here, Where Juliet lives, and every cat and dog And little mouse, every unworthy thing, Live here in heaven and may look on her, But Romeo may not. More validity, More honorable state, more courtship lives In carrion flies than Romeo. They may seize On the white wonder of dear Juliet’s hand And steal immortal blessing from her lips, Who even in pure and vestal modesty, Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin. But Romeo may not. He is banishèd. Flies may do this, but I from this must fly. They are free men, but I am banishèd. And sayst thou yet that exile is not death? Hadst thou no poison mixed, no sharp-ground knife, No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean, But “banishèd” to kill me?—“Banishèd”! O Friar, the damnèd use that word in hell. Howling attends it. How hast thou the heart, Being a divine, a ghostly confessor, A sin-absolver, and my friend professed, To mangle me with that word “banishèd”?” “إن لهذه السعادة العنيفة آخرة عنيفة ، إنها لتموت في أوجها كانار والبارود يعتنقان فيحترقان. وإن حلاوة العسل لتؤذي حين تزيد عن حدها ، فتقطع الشهوة لكثرة ما تتملقها : وإذن فأحبب هونا ما ، فالحب الطويل يؤثر ذلك ، ويوشك المسرف في العجلة أن يتأخر تأخر المسرف في البطء .”  “Not I, believe me. You have dancing shoes with nimble soles. I have a soul of lead so stakes me to the ground I cannot move.” “  Samp. 'Tis all one. I will show myself a tyrant. When I have fought     with the men, I will be cruel with the maids- I will cut off     their heads.   Greg. The heads of the maids?   Samp. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads.”  “No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door, but 'tis enough.”  “Că-s însușiri alese-n toate cele.  Țărâna-i mama firii și sicriul,  Ea face din ce-i mort să nască viul, Și sânul ei îl dă la fiecare,  La toți copiii, de-orice soi ce are. Ce felurite sunt în lume toate! O, sunt puteri de viață minunate În ierburi, în copaci, în piatră chiar! Din toate câte din pământ răsar Nimic nu-i rău să n-aibă-o parte bună, Ci-n rău ce-i bun adesea se răzbună. Când e-abătută calea lui cea dreaptă, Virtutea chiar se poate face viciu Și viciul poate-a se-nălța prin faptă. E și balsam de leac într-un caliciu Gingaș de floare, dar e și otravă; Când o miroși, mireasma e suavă, Dar când o guști, inima nu-ți mai bate. În om, ca și în plantă și în toate, Sunt doi stăpâni mereu în dușmănie: E bunul har, e crunta lăcomie. Și când spre cer mai rău înclină sorții, Atuncea vine negrul vierme al morții...”  “إن الخيال تغنيه مادته أكثر مما تغنيه ألفاظه ، وإنه ليزهى بجوهره أكثر مما يزهى بزينته .”  “BENVOLIO: It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo’s hours? ROMEO: Not having that, which, having, makes them short. BENVOLIO: In love? ROMEO: Out— BENVOLIO: Of love? ROMEO: Out of her favour, where I am in love. BENVOLIO: Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! ROMEO: Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will!”  “The which if you with patient ears attend,”  “Cât e de dulce mierea, tot degustă Pe-acela ce prea multă miere gustă; De-aceea nu fi lacom, nici prea dornic: Numai atunci norocul e statornic. Târziu acel ce-i prea grăbit s-alerge Ajunge ca și cel ce prea-ncet merge.”  “Прошу не торопить. Тот падает, кто мчится во всю прыть.”  “That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.”  “¿Qué cosa es, si no? Locura juiciosa, amargor que asfixia, dulzor que conforta.”  “Tut, dun's the mouse, the constable's own word: If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire Of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stick'st Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho!”  “We cannot be here and there too. Cheerly, boys; be brisk awhile, and the longer liver take all.”  “That which we call a rose      By any other name would smell as sweet;” “¡Bah! querido, un fuego sofoca a otro fuego, un dolor se aminora por la angustia de otro dolor: hazte mudable y busca remedio en la contraria mudanza; cura una desesperación con otra desesperación, haz que absorban tus ojos un nuevo veneno y el antiguo perderá su ponzoñosa acritud.”  “O, du-te, dar, Dulcele meu! Și-a verii adiere  Învoaltă floare facă din bobocul Iubirii noastre pân` la revedere! Somn dulce! Noapte bună! Și coboară În sânul tău o pace-așa de dulce Ca și în sânul Julietei care Se duce, obosită, să se culce...”  “Young men’s love, then, lies      Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.” “BENVOLIO - Tuo padre, sì… Ma quale interna pena fa tanto lunghe  l’ore di Romeo?  ROMEO - La pena di non posseder per sé la cosa che gliele farebbe brevi.  ========== È la crudele legge dell’amore. Già le pene del mio pesano troppo  sul mio cuore, e tu vuoi ch’esso trabocchi coll’aggiungervi il peso  delle tue: giacché quest’affettuosa tua premura altro non fa che  aggiunger nuova ambascia a quella che m’opprime, ch’è già troppa.  L’amore è vaporosa nebbiolina formata dai sospiri; se si dissolve,  è fuoco che sfavilla scintillando negli occhi degli amanti; s’è  ostacolato, è un mare alimentato dalle lacrime degli stessi amanti.  Che altro è più? Una follia segreta, un’acritudine che mozza il  fiato, una dolcezza che ti tira su. ========== Oh, ch’ella insegna perfino alle torce come splendere di più viva  luce! Par che sul buio volto della notte ella brilli come una gemma  rara pendente dall’orecchio d’una Etiope. Bellezza troppo ricca per  usarne, troppo cara e preziosa per la terra! Ella spicca fra queste  sue compagne come spicca una nivea colomba in mezzo ad uno stormo  di cornacchie. Finito questo ballo, osserverò dove s’andrà a posare  e, toccando la sua, farò beata questa mia rozza mano… Ha mai amato  il mio cuore finora?… Se dice sì, occhi miei, sbugiardatelo,  perch’io non ho mai visto vera beltà prima di questa notte. ========== Codesti subitanei piacimenti hanno altrettanta subitanea fine, e  come fuoco o polvere da sparo s’estinguono nel lor trionfo stesso,  si consumano al loro primo bacio. Miele più dolce si fa più  stucchevole proprio per l’eccessiva sua dolcezza, e toglie la sua  voglia al primo assaggio. Perciò sii moderato nell’amare. L’amor  che vuol durare fa così. Chi ha fretta arriva sempre troppo tardi,  come chi s’incammina troppo adagio. “Saadeti tamamen idrak eden bir kimse, İfadeden acizdir duyduğu saadeti, Bu his onu tamamen tatmin ettiği için, Yoktur kelimelerle süslemenin imkânı. Servetini sayanlar dilencilerdir ancak,  Benim aşkım o kadar fazlalaşmış artmış ki Servetimin yarısını bile saymak imkânsız.”  “Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,  Who is already sick and pale with grief,  That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she.” “Acest volum de-amor, amant răzleț, De s-ar lega, ar fi fără de preț”  “Sí. ¿Qué tristeza alarga las horas de Romeo? ROMEO No tener lo que, al tenerlo, las abrevia.”  “Площадь въ Веронѣ. Входятъ Сансонэ и Грегоріо, вооруженныые мечами и щитами. Сансонэ. Честное слово, Грегоріо, не позволю я имъ казать намъ носы. Грегоріо. Не такіе мы люди, чтобы это стерпѣть.”  “Le han visto allí muchas mañanas, aumentando con su llanto el rocío de la mañana, añadiendo a las nubes sus nubes de suspiros. Mas, en cuanto el sol, que todo alegra, comienza a descorrer por el remoto oriente las oscuras cortinas del lecho de Aurora, mi melancólico hijo huye de la luz y se encierra solitario en su aposento, cerrando las ventanas, expulsando toda luz y creándose una noche artificial”  “¿Qué tristeza alarga las horas de Romeo? ROMEO No tener lo que, al tenerlo, las abrevia.”  “ROMEO (...) Mi pecado en tu boca se ha purgado. JULIETA Pecado que en mi boca quedaría. ROMEO Repruebas con dulzura. ¿Mi pecado? ¡Devuélvemelo!”  “These violent delights have violent ends And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, Which as they kiss consume: the sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness And in the taste confounds the appetite: Therefore love moderately; long love doth so; Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.”  “Prologue”  “Roméo : Si j'ai profané avec mon indigne main cette châsse sacrée, je suis prêt à une douce pénitence : permettez à mes lèvres, comme à deux pèlerins rougissants, d'effacer ce grossier attouchement par un tendre baiser. Juliette : Bon pèlerin, vous êtes trop sévère pour votre main qui n'a fait preuve en ceci que d'une respectueuse dévotion. Les saintes mêmes ont des mains que peuvent toucher les mains des pèlerins ; et cette étreinte est un pieux baiser. Roméo : Les saintes n'ont-elles pas des lèvres, et les pèlerins aussi ? Juliette : Oui, pèlerin, des lèvres vouées à la prière. Roméo : Oh ! alors, chère sainte, que les lèvres fassent ce que font les mains. Elles te prient ; exauce-les, de peur que leur foi ne se change en désespoir. Juliette : Les saintes restent immobiles, tout en exauçant les prières. Roméo : Restez donc immobile, tandis que je recueillerai l'effet de ma prière. Vos lèvres ont effacé le péché des miennes. Juliette : Mes lèvres ont gardé pour elles le péché qu'elles ont pris des vôtres. Roméo : Vous avez pris le péché de mes lèvres ? Ô reproche charmant ! Alors rendez-moi mon péché. Juliette : Vous avez l'art des baisers.”  “Ô Roméo ! Roméo ! pourquoi es-tu Roméo ? Renie ton père et abdique ton nom ; ou, si tu ne le veux pas, jure de m'aimer, et je ne serai plus une Capulet.”  “Kehidupan memuakkan hanya menghasilkan kebencian, dan bergerak tak menentu, Hancurkan, hancurkan saja sekalian yang kemudia akan menjadi bangkai dengan sia-sia. -Romeo Juliet-” “BENVOLIO : Suis mon conseil : cesse de penser à elle. ROMÉO : Oh ! apprends-moi comment je puis cesser de penser. BENVOLIO : En rendant la liberté à tes yeux : examine d’autres beautés.” “Si l'amour est brutal avec vous, soyez brutal avec lui ; écorchez l'amour qui vous écorche, et vous le dompterez.”  “In what vile part of this anatomy Doth my name lodge? Tell me, that I may sack The hateful mansion.”  “I beg for justice, which you, Prince, must give. Romeo killed Tybalt; Romeo must not live.”  “Bet meilė - dar daugiau. Ir kas gi ji? Kilnių geismų ir apmaudo siautimas, Keista būtybė, gimusi iš nieko, Džiugi vergovė, šaldanti liepsna, Žavingų formų mišinys kraupus, Švininis pūkas, dūmas spindulingas, Ligota sveikata, bemiegis miegas?.. Štai meilė, kuri siaučia manyje Ir veltui laukia atsako, deja.”  “Kas toji meilė? Garo debesėlis, Atodūsis, į orą pasikėlęs, Šviesos ir laimės tviskanti versmė Ar skausmo ašarų juoda gelmė? Taip, meilė - išmintinga beprotybė, Medus saldžiausias ir nuodų kartybė.”  “Tamsa patinka meilei: ji akla.” “Saldybės visos be tavęs apkarto... Pas mylimą mes bėgam be šnekų  Nelyginant vaikai iš pamokų, Bet einame paniurę atgalios Kaip mokinys prie knygos nuobodžios.”  “Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow, we would willingly give cure as know.”  “E' l'oriente, e Giulietta è il sole! Oh, sorgi bel sole e uccidi la luna invidiosa che è già malata e pallida di rabbia, perché tu, sua ancella, di lei sei tanto più bella.”  “Black and portentous must this humour46 prove,      Unless good counsel may the cause remove. [140] Benvolio” “SAMPSON '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. GREGORY The heads of the maids? SAMPSON Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maiden- heads, take it in what sense thou wilt. GREGORY They must take it in sense that feel it. SAMPSON Me they shall feel while I am able to stand, and 'tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh.”  “It is surely significant, for instance, that Romeo and Juliet was written at around the same time as The Merchant of Venice, a play that is preoccupied with the whole question of freedom of choice and its consequences.4”  “Don't waste your love on somebody who doesn't value it.”  “ROMEO By heaven, I love thee better than myself, For I come hither arm'd against myself.”  “Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs; Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers’ eyes; Being vex’d a sea nourish’d with lovers’ tears.” –          Romeo (Act I, Scene 1) This is a famous definition of love from the master playwright through his character Romeo. It starts by saying that love is a smoke that rises from the fume of sighs, i.e. sighs of a person who is initially attracted to someone raises love just like fumes raise smoke. If the smoke is cleared, it causes a lover’s eyes to sparkle. However if the smoke is stirred up it can create a sea of tears of the lover. In simple words Shakespeare is saying that love can be source of great happiness or great sadness depending on how it is handled. “This bud of love, by summer’s ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.” –          Juliet (Act II, Scene 2) While talking to Romeo, Juliet wishes that may their young love flourish by the time they meet again. She compares their love to a bud and hopes that summer, with its ripening effect, converts that bud into a beautiful flower. “Give me my Romeo, and, when I 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. “ –          Juliet (Act III, Scene 2) Juliet says these lines while impatiently waiting for Romeo. She wants to be with Romeo now. When she is dead she can share Romeo’s beauty with the world. For if he is cut into little stars to form a constellation then Romeo’s face will make the sky so beautiful that the whole world will fall in love with night and no one will worship the bright and showy sun. It should be noted that ‘when I shall die’ was changed to ‘when he shall die’ in later editions of the play giving the lines a slightly different meaning. “O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright.” –          Romeo (Act I, Scene 5) These lines are spoken by Romeo in praise of Juliet when he first notices her dancing with a knight. He considers Juliet’s beauty to be so great that she could teach the torches how to burn bright, i.e. her beauty emits radiance that overpowers the bright light of a torch and hence she can show the torches how to burn bright.   “See how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek! “ –          Romeo (Act II, Scene 2) Romeo says these lines while delivering a soliloquy as he stands in the Capulet’s fruit garden and is viewing Juliet as she stands on her balcony. When he sees her lean her cheek upon her hand, he yearns to be a glove on her hand so that he might touch her cheek. Romeo had just met Juliet earlier in the evening and his wish to get close to her again drives him to her garden. “But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. “ –          Romeo (Act II, Scene 2) Romeo says these lines to himself when he is standing in the Capulet’s fruit garden in a bid to see Juliet and she appears on her balcony. As Juliet appears, Romeo compares her to the sun at dawn through these words. He says: But wait, what is that light that breaks through that window, it is Juliet appearing like the sun from the east. “Tempt not a desperate man” –          Romeo (Act V, Scene 3) Romeo believes that Juliet is dead and is standing near her grave when Paris finds him, blames him for her death and challenges him. It is then that Romeo says this famous line in which he warns Paris to not mess with a person who is already so desperate that he is likely to act violently. Though Romeo doesn’t want more bloodshed he ends up killing Paris and regrets it. “Good Night, Good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow.” –          Juliet (Act II, Scene 2) Juliet speaks these lines at the end of a long scene in which they confess their love but now have to part. In what are considered one of the iconic lines of the play, Juliet is saying that parting is such a sweet sorrow that she will say good night till tomorrow. It simply means that parting between lovers is sweet because of the moments you spend while doing it and it is sorrowful because you have to part. “O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love And I’ll no longer be a Capulet.” –          Juliet (Act II, Scene 2) In one of Shakespeare’s best known lines, Juliet is asking why Romeo has to be Romeo in a monologue, not knowing that Romeo is standing below her balcony and listening to her. She says these lines because Romeo is a Montague and she is a Capulet and their families have a long history of violence against each other. She is questioning why Romeo has to be a Montague. She wants Romeo to give up his family name and if he doesn’t, she swears she will give up being a Capulet. “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet” –          Juliet (Act II, Scene 2) One of Shakespeare’s most quoted quotations in which Juliet is saying that name is just a meaningless convention and a rose by any other name would still be a rose, with all its qualities. She says these lines because she has fallen in love with Romeo who belongs to the family of their rivals and his name makes it very difficult for them to be together. Hence she is arguing that name of things is not important, what matters is what things “are”. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes / A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life / Whose misadventured piteous overthrows / Doth with their death bury their parents' strife (Prologue, 6-9) Shakespeare gives us the plot of the play before the play even begins. There is obviously more to be learned from the play than the series of events. Fatal loins makes for an interesting discussion. O she doth teach the torches to burn bright! / It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night / As a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear-- / Beauty too rich for use, for Earth too dear! (I, v, 43-46) Romeo proclaims his infatuation for Juliet. He has seen her for about 2.63 seconds and has never spoken with her. He utters this mere hours after uttering similar thoughts about Rosaline. These words give insight into Romeo's instability and his being controlled by his emotions. The final line foreshadows Juliet's death. O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo? / Deny thy father and refuse thy name (II, ii, 33-34. The key word in Juliet's question is wherefore, which means why, not whereas many foolish neophyte Shakespeareans believe. Juliet, in these lines, declares her willingness to disown her own family if she can be with her true love, who she's known for almost an hour-and-a-half. And you wonder why fathers go bald.  What's in a name? That which we call a rose / By any other name would smell as sweet. (II, ii, 43-44).  Juliet still tries to subdue her conscience with this reasoning, claiming that Romeo's name matters not, for he is her true love. Juliet is wrong. A rose would not smell as sweet if you called it a Harkraken or Schnockter or a Sewage Weed. That's just my analysis. What do you think? Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow / That I shall say good night till it be morrow (II, ii, 184-5). Juliet speaks all the good lines. She's a rather aggressive Middle Ages girl, don't you think? Juliet obviously cares little for societal restrictions. A plague a both your houses. (III, i, 99) Mercutio as he dies says this to Romeo. It's ironic that Mercutio blames Romeo even though Mercutio instigated the violence as Romeo attempted to stop it. Romeo feels responsible for Mercutio's death and gets his revenge by slaying Tybalt. The curse Mercutio levels foreshadows the lovers' suicide. Beautiful tyrant! Fiend angelical! / Dove feathered raven! Wolvish-ravening lamb! / Despised substance of divinest show! / A damned saint, an honorable villain! (III, ii, 73-79). Juliet can't quite wrap her mind around the fact that Romeo has killed her cousin. Shakespeare's brilliant use of oxymorons emphasizes Juliet's confused state. Tis torture, and not mercy. Heaven is here, / Where Juliet lives; and every cat and dog / And little mouse, every unworthy thing, / Live here in heaven and may look on her; / But Romeo may not. (III, iii, 29-34) Romeo does not take the news of his banishment very well. He reacts with pure emotion and instability as evidenced by his attempted suicide a few minutes later. At Juliet's time of greatest need, when she needs Romeo, her husband, to step up and be a man, he sinks to the floor and cries. Poor Juliet. I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins / That almost freezes up the heat of life. (IV, iii, 15-16)  Shakespeare gives us an array of literary devices with Juliet's utterance. We get alliteration and foreshadowing. Juliet knows this will not end well. Death is my son-in-law, Death is my heir (IV, v, 38) Capulet's lament is ironic on so many levels. Death is his son-in-law insomuch that Romeo is dead to the city after his banishment. Romeo will be physically dead shortly as well. The audience knows that Juliet lives, making Capulet's sorrow unnecessary. Ah, dear Juliet, Why art thou yet so fair? Shall I believe / That unsubstantial Death is amorous? (V, iii, 102-3) Every time I scream, "Romeo, she's fair because she's still alive! Don't do it!" I expect the end of the story to change. It never does. This is an excellent example of dramatic irony. For never was a story of more woe / Than this of Juliet and her Romeo (V, iii, 309-10).  It's hard to argue with the Prince on this one. Two households, both alike in dignity . . .   In the first line of the play, the Chorus describes two of the main actors—the families of the Montagues and Capulets.  From forth the fatal loins of these two foes  A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;  Whose misadventured piteous overthrows  Do with their death bury their parents' strife.  The Chorus tells us the essence of the plot of Romeo and Juliet.   . . . the weakest goes to the wall.  Sampson makes fun of Gregory's boast about taking the wall "of any man or maid of Montague's."  Gregory, remember thy washing blow.  Having picked a fight with some of Montague's servants, Sampson wants Gregory to back him up.   . . . an hour before the worshipp’d sun  Peered forth the golden window of the east.  Benvolio tells Romeo's parents when he saw Romeo wandering about in the throes of love for Rosaline.  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.  Romeo's father describes the ill effects that Romeo's longing for Rosaline is having on Romeo. He that is strucken blind cannot forget  The precious treasure of his eyesight lost.  When Benvolio suggests that Romeo can get over his love for Rosaline if only he will "examine other beauties," Romeo replies that nothing can make him forget that Rosaline is the most beautiful of all, just as a man who is struck blind cannot forget the "precious treasure" of eyesight.  . . . one fire burns out another’s burning,  One pain is lessen’d by another’s anguish.  Benvolio again argues that finding a new love is the way for Romeo to escape from the pain of his hopeless love for Rosalind.  That book in many’s eyes doth share the glory  That in gold clasps locks in the golden story.  Juliet's mother tries to talk her daughter into accepting Paris for her husband by arguing that Juliet will share in the glory of Paris' glory by being the decorative cover to the book that tells his story.  For I am proverb’d with a grandsire phrase. I'll be a candle-holder, and look on.  In response to Benvolio's urging that he join his friends in going into Capulet's party, Romeo declares that he is instructed by an old proverb, "A good candle-holder proves a good gamester," which means that a mere onlooker can't lose in a game.  O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you!  She is the fairies’ midwife, and she comes  In shape no bigger than an agate-stone  On the fore-finger of an alderman,  Drawn with a team of little atomies  Athwart men’s noses as they lie asleep.  Mercutio starts his famous "Queen Mab" speech with a description of the fairy queen.  Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,  Time out o’ mind the fairies’ coachmakers.  In his "Queen Mab" speech Mercutio identifies the coachmakers who serve the fairy queen.  Sometime she driveth o’er a soldier’s neck,  And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,  Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,  Of healths five-fathom deep; and then anon  Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,  And being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two  And sleeps again.  In Mercutio's "Queen Mab" speech, he comments on how a person's life experiences come back in dreams.  True, I talk of dreams,  Which are the children of an idle brain,  Begot of nothing but vain fantasy . . . .  In response to Romeo's comment that the "Queen Mab" speech is about nothing, Mercutio replies that that is true, because it's all about dreams, which are nothing. (Romeo has objected to going into Capulet's party because of a dream he had.)  For you and I are past our dancing days.  Speaking to his cousin, Capulet reminisces about how they used to do just what Romeo and his friends are doing now, dancing in masks.  O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!  It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night  Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear;  Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!  Upon first seeing Juliet, Romeo is struck into wonderment by her beauty.  If I profane with my unworthiest hand  This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this:  My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand  To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.  In his first words to Juliet, Romeo, holding her hand, wittily begs permission to kiss her hand.  I tell you, he that can lay hold of her  Shall have the chinks.  The Nurse, talking to a handsome stranger (Romeo) about her precious Juliet, assures the young man that Juliet is a good catch—both rich and beautiful. My only love sprung from my only hate!  Too early seen unknown, and known too late!  As all the guests are leaving the party, Juliet discovers that Romeo is a Montague, and laments that she has fallen in love with him.  Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim,  When King Cophetua loved the beggar maid!  After Capulet's party, Mercutio, calling out to the hidden Romeo, scoffs at Cupid and love.  He jests at scars that never felt a wound.  Romeo, after listening to Mercutio scoff at him for being in love, comments that the only reason Mercutio can jest is because he has never been in love.  But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?  It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.  Upon first seeing Juliet at her window, Romeo says that her beauty shines like the sun.  See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!  O that I were a glove upon that hand,  That I might touch that cheek!  Watching Juliet at her window, Romeo longs for her.  O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?  Juliet, at her window, laments that her love is Romeo, son of Montague, the enemy of her father Capulet. (She doesn't know that Romeo is listening to her.)  What ’s in a name? That which we call a rose  By any other name would smell as sweet.  Juliet, speaking to the night, reflects that the only thing wrong with the one she loves is just his name.  . . . stony limits cannot hold love out, And what love can do, that dares love attempt.  When Juliet asks how he managed to get over the high wall to Capulet's garden, Romeo replies that he flew on the wings of love, which is stronger than "stony limits."  Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye  Than twenty of their swords!  When Juliet warns Romeo that her kinsmen will kill him if they find him in the Capulet's garden, Romeo replies that her beauty is more likely to kill him than is a Capulet sword.  . . . At lovers’ perjuries, They say,  Jove laughs.  Worried (for a moment) that Romeo may be a false lover, Juliet quotes a saying that shows the world doesn't take false love too seriously.   Romeo. Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear,  That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops—     Juliet. O swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon,  That monthly changes in her circled orb,  Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.  Romeo tries to swear that he is a faithful lover, but Juliet interrupts him.  . . . swear by thy gracious self, Which is The god of my idolatry.  Juliet tells Romeo that if he must swear on something to prove he is a faithful lover, he should swear only upon himself.   . . . Although I joy in thee,  I have no joy of this contract tonight:  It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden;  Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be  Ere one can say "It lightens." Sweet, good night!  This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,  May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.”  Juliet says to Romeo that their love is too sudden and too brilliant to believed, and bids him good night with the hope that their love will bloom.  My bounty is as boundless as the sea,  My love as deep; the more I give to thee,  The more I have, for both are infinite.  Again pledging her love to Romeo, Juliet says that the more she gives love to him, the more she has.  How silver-sweet sound lovers’ tongues by night,  Like softest music to attending ears!  In the balcony scene, after Juliet is called in, then comes back out and calls to Romeo, he is enthralled by the sound of her voice.  Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow,  That I shall say good night till it be morrow.  In the balcony scene, just before she goes in for the last time, Juliet says good night.  O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies  In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities:  For nought so vile that on the earth doth live  But to the earth some special good doth give,  Nor aught so good but strain’d from that fair use  Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse.  When we first see Friar Laurence, he is gathering herbs and commenting on the fact that everything in nature has some good use, and that—contrariwise—even the best of nature can used in a bad way.  Care keeps his watch in every old man’s eye,  And where care lodges, sleep will never lie  Seeing Romeo up early in the morning, Friar Laurence deduces that something must be wrong with him, because although old men have much worry ("care") that keeps them awake, a careless youth sleeps long. Thy old groans ring yet in my ancient ears.  When Romeo tells Friar Laurence that he wants to be married to Juliet, the Friar exclaims on the change; he can still hear Romeo's groans of love for Rosaline.  Stabbed with a white wench’s black eye.  When Benvolio says that Romeo will answer Tybalt's challenge, Mercutio jokingly replies that Romeo is already dead—of love. (Mercutio thinks that Romeo is still crazy for Rosaline.)  O, he is the courageous captain of compliments.  Mercutio sarcastically describes Tybalt as one who will kill you with utmost courtesy.  One, two, and the third in your bosom.  Mercutio sarcastically sums up the result of Tybalt's artistry as a duellist. O flesh, flesh, how art thou fishified!  Mercutio jests that love has dried up Romeo.  I am the very pink of courtesy.  In an exchange of jests with Romeo, Mercutio boasts that he is the flower of courtesy.  A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself talk, and will speak more in a minute than he will stand to in a month.  After Mercutio has hurled a series of naughty jokes at the Nurse, Romeo more or less apologizes for him by saying that he loves to hear himself talk, but means little of what he says.  My man ’s as true as steel.  Romeo assures the Nurse that his servant can keep a secret.  But old folks — many feign as they were dead;  Unwieldy, slow, heavy and pale as lead.  Waiting for the Nurse to bring her news from Romeo, Juliet says that old folks are too slow to appreciate the urgency of youth and love.  These violent delights have violent ends.  As Romeo and Friar Laurence wait for Juliet, Friar Laurence, even though he has already agreed to marry Romeo and Juliet, warns Romeo against love that is too passionate and sudden.  Therefore love moderately; long love doth so;  Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.  Friar Laurence concludes his advice to Romeo.  Here comes the lady! O, so light a foot  Will ne’er wear out the everlasting flint  Friar Laurence describes Juliet as she comes to be married to Romeo.  For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring.  Benvolio tells Mercutio that the day is ripe for a brawl.  Thy head is as full of quarrels as an egg is full of meat.  Mercutio jokes that Benvolio, who wants to avoid a fight with the Capulets, is the very person who is most likely to start a fight.  make it a word and a blow  Responding to Tybalt's request for "a word," Mercutio invites Tybalt to fight.  A plague o’ both your houses!  Mercutio, fatally wounded by Tybalt, curses both the Capulets and Montagues.    Romeo: Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much.      Mercutio: No, ’t is not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church-door; but ’t is enough, ’t will serve.  After Mercutio has been fatally wounded by Tybalt, Romeo tries to be optimistic, but Mercutio wittily tells him the dreadful truth.  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.  On her wedding night, waiting for Romeo to come to her, Juliet says that Romeo, her new husband, will be her glorious lover forever.  Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical!  Dove-feather'd raven! wolvish-ravening lamb!  Despised substance of divinest show!  Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st,  A damned saint, an honorable villain!  O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell,  When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend  In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh?  Was ever book containing such vile matter  So fairly bound? O that deceit should dwell  In such a gorgeous palace!  Upon hearing that Romeo has killed her cousin, Tybalt, Juliet both curses and blesses her husband, Romeo.  Thou cutt’st my head off with a golden axe.  When Friar Laurence tells Romeo that he has only been banished (and not sentenced to be executed), Romeo answers that to be banished (and away from Juliet) is worse than to be dead. they may seize  On the white wonder of dear Juliet’s hand  And steal immortal blessing from her lips,  Who, even in pure and vestal modesty,  Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin.  Romeo envies the flies that can visit Juliet, when he cannot.  The damned use that word in hell.  When Friar Laurence argues that being banished is not the worst fate, Romeo replies that souls in hell are "banished" from the presence of God.  Adversity’s sweet milk, philosophy.  Trying to talk Romeo out of his despair over being banished, Friar Laurence says that "philosophy" (rational thought) can cure him.  Taking the measure of an unmade grave.  Refusing to be comforted by the news that he is only banished, Romeo throws himself onto the floor as if he were throwing himself into his own grave.  It was the nightingale, and not the lark, That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear  At the end of their wedding night, Juliet tries to persuade Romeo that it is not yet morning, and therefore not yet time for him to leave.  Night’s candles are burnt out, and jocund day  Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain-tops.  Romeo tells Juliet that the night is gone, and day has come.  It is the lark that sings so out of tune,  Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps.  Afraid that Romeo will be in danger from staying with her too long, Juliet says that it is the lark (harbinger of the day) that is singing.  and all these woes shall serve  For sweet discourses in our time to come.  As Romeo leaves her room, Juliet asks if they will ever see one another again; Romeo says they certainly will, and talk about their current troubles as fond reminder of their love.  Villain and he be many miles asunder.  When her mother describes Romeo as a villain, Juliet says to herself that he is the opposite of a villain. Thank me no thankings, nor, proud me no prouds.  When her father announces that he has arranged to wed her to Paris, Juliet tries to talk her way out of it by thanking him for his care of her, but saying that she cannot be proud of something she hates; her father refuses to listen and mocks what he considers to be Juliet's twisting of words.  'tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers.  As preparations are being made for the feast of the wedding of Juliet and Paris, a servant tells Capulet his test for a good cook. Not stepping o’er the bounds of modesty.  After telling her father that she will be obedient to him in all things, Juliet tells him that she met Paris and "gave him what becomed love I might, / Not stepping o’er the bounds of modesty." Juliet is only technically telling the truth.  I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins,  That almost freezes up the heat of life.  Preparing to take the sleeping potion, Juliet is almost overcome by fear. Romeo, Romeo, Romeo! Here's drink—I drink to thee.  In her last words before she drinks the sleeping potion, Juliet reminds herself of why she is doing it.  My bosom’s lord sits lightly in his throne.  In Mantua, Romeo is in a good mood because of a dream he had in which a kiss from Juliet revived him from death; therefore love, his "bosom's lord" sits happily in "his throne," Romeo's heart.  I do remember an apothecary,— And hereabouts he dwells.  After hearing that Juliet is dead, Romeo seeks out poison.  meager were his looks,  Sharp misery had worn him to the bones.  Romeo describes the apothecary.  A beggarly account of empty boxes,  Green earthen pots, bladders and musty seeds,  Remnants of packthread and old cakes of roses,  Were thinly scatter'd, to make up a show  Romeo remembers that the apothecary's shop showed his extreme want.  Famine is in thy cheeks, Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes  When the apothecary says that it's death to sell the poison which Romeo requests, Romeo replies that the apothecary shouldn't be afraid of death, since he's already starving to death.  The world is not thy friend nor the world’s law.  Romeo argues that the apothecary shouldn't feel bound by the law, since the law doesn't protect him.  Apothecary. My poverty, but not my will, consents.     Romeo. I pay thy poverty, and not thy will.  The apothecary reluctantly agrees to sell the poison.   if you had the strength  Of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight.  The apothecary warns Romeo of the strength of the poison.  O, give me thy hand,  One writ with me in sour misfortune's book!  I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave;  A grave? O no! a lantern, slaughter'd youth,  For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes  This vault a feasting presence full of light.  Having fought with Paris and killed him, Romeo speaks to him as to fallen brother-in-arms, and carries him into the tomb.  beauty's ensign yet  Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks,  And death's pale flag is not advanced there.  Looking upon Juliet, whom he believes to be dead, Romeo notices that she still has beautiful color. Eyes, look your last!  Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you  The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss  A dateless bargain to engrossing death!  Just before he takes the poison, Romeo takes his farewell of Juliet with a kiss.  A glooming peace this morning with it brings;  The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head  Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things;  Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished:  For never was a story of more woe  Than this of Juliet and her Romeo  Prince Escalus delivers the last speech of the play.