Capulet Such comfort as do lusty young men feel When well-apparelled April on the heel Of limping Winter treads — even such delight Among fresh fennel 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. [To Servant, giving him a piece of paper] Go, sirrah, trudge about Through fair Verona; find those persons out Whose names are written there, and to them say, My house and welcome on their pleasure stay. Read more about Act 1, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: Rhyming Verse
Benvolio At thy good heart's oppression. Romeo Why, such is love's transgression. Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast, Which thou wilt propagate to have it pressed With more of thine. This love that thou hast shown Doth add more grief to too much of mine own. Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs — Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; Being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers' tears. What is it else? A madness most discreet, A choking gall and a preserving sweet. Read more about Act 1, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: Rhyming Verse
Benvolio Good morrow, cousin. Romeo Is the day so young? Read more about Act 1, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: Split Lines
Montague But he his own affection's counsellor Is to himself — I will not say how true — Read more about Act 1, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: Word Order
Montague Black and portentous must this humor prove, Unless good counsel may the cause remove. Read more about Act 1, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: Word Order
Friar Laurence What torch is yond, that vainly lends his light To grubs and eyeless skulls? As I discern, Read more about Act 5, Scene 3: Popup Note Index Item: "grubs and eyelessl skulls"
Romeo But he that hath the steerage of my course Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen. Read more about Act 1, Scene 4: Popup Note Index Item: "directs my sail"
Read more about Act 5, Scene 3: Popup Note Index Item: “Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interred."
Mercutio Cry but 'Ay me!', pronounce but 'love' and 'dove.' Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word, Read more about Act 2, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: "speak but one rhyme"
