Juliet Good father, I beseech you on my knees, Hear me with patience but to speak a word. Capulet Hang thee, young baggage. Disobedient wretch! I tell thee what. Get thee to church a 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 blessed That 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! Read more about Act 3, Scene 5: Popup Note Index Item: "hilding"
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, I cannot choose but ever weep the friend. Read more about Act 3, Scene 5: Popup Note Index Item: "feeling" and "feel"
Juliet 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 loathèd toad changed 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. Read more about Act 3, Scene 5: Popup Note Index Item: "hunting" and "hunt's-up"
