Romeo and Juliet

by: William Shakespeare

  Act 3 Scene 5

page Act 3 Scene 5 Page 8

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CAPULET

160Hang thee, young baggage! Disobedient wretch!
I tell thee what: get thee to church o' Thursday,
Or never after look me in the face.
Speak not. Reply not. Do not answer me.
My fingers itch.—Wife, we scarce thought us blest
165That God had lent us but this only child,
But now I see this one is one too much
And that we have a curse in having her.
Out on her, hilding!

CAPULET

Forget about you, you worthless girl! You disobedient wretch! I’ll tell you what. Go to church on Thursday or never look me in the face again. Don’t say anything. Don’t reply. Don’t talk back to me.
(JULIET rises)
I feel like slapping you. Wife, we never thought ourselves blessed that God only gave us this one child. But now I see that this one is one too many. We were cursed when we had her. She disgusts me, the little hussy!

NURSE

     God in heaven bless her!
You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so.

NURSE

God in heaven bless her! My lord, you’re wrong to berate her like that.

CAPULET

170And why, my Lady Wisdom? Hold your tongue,
Good prudence. Smatter with your gossips, go.

CAPULET

And why, wise lady? You shut up, old woman. Go blabber with your gossiping friends.

NURSE

I speak no treason.

NURSE

I’ve said nothing wrong.

CAPULET

   Oh, God 'i' good e'en.

CAPULET

Oh, for God’s sake.

NURSE

May not one speak?

NURSE

Can’t I say something?

CAPULET

   Peace, you mumbling fool!
Utter your gravity o'er a gossip’s bowl,
175For here we need it not.

CAPULET

Be quiet, you mumbling fool! Say your serious things at lunch with your gossiping friends. We don’t need to hear it.

LADY CAPULET

     You are too hot.

LADY CAPULET

You’re getting too angry.

CAPULET

God’s bread! It makes me mad.
Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play,
Alone, in company, still my care hath been
To have her matched. And having now provided
180A gentleman of noble parentage,
Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly trained,
Stuffed, as they say, with honorable parts,
Proportioned as one’s thought would wish a man—
And then to have a wretched puling fool,
185A whining mammet, in her fortune’s tender,
To answer “I’ll not wed,” “I cannot love,”
“I am too young,” “I pray you, pardon me.”—
But, an you will not wed, I’ll pardon you.
Graze where you will, you shall not house with me.
190Look to ’t, think on ’t, I do not use to jest.
Thursday is near. Lay hand on heart, advise.
An you be mine, I’ll give you to my friend.
An you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in the streets,
For, by my soul, I’ll ne'er acknowledge thee,
195Nor what is mine shall never do thee good.
Trust to ’t, bethink you. I’ll not be forsworn.

CAPULET

Goddammit! It makes me mad. Day and night, hour after hour, all the time, at work, at play, alone, in company, my top priority has always been to find her a husband. Now I’ve provided a husband from a noble family, who is good-looking, young, well-educated. He’s full of good qualities.
He’s the man of any girl’s dreams. But this wretched, whimpering fool, like a whining puppet, she looks at this good fortune and answers, “I won’t get married. I can’t fall in love. I’m too young. Please, excuse me.” Well, if you won’t get married, I’ll excuse you. Eat wherever you want, but you can no longer live under my roof. Consider that. Think about it. I’m not in the habit of joking. Thursday is coming. Put your hand on your heart and listen to my advice. If you act like my daughter, I’ll marry you to my friend. If you don’t act like my daughter, you can beg, starve, and die in the streets. I swear on my soul, I will never take you back or do anything for you. Believe me. Think about it. I won’t break this promise.