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Romeo stands below Juliet’s balcony, marveling at her beauty. Not knowing he’s there, Juliet speaks, wondering why Romeo must be a Montague, and she a Capulet. She thinks a name is simply a word, and it would be easy for Romeo to take a new name, and therefore not be forbidden to her.
Jul 31, 2015 · Entire Play The prologue of Romeo and Juliet calls the title characters “star-crossed lovers”—and the stars do seem to conspire against these young lovers.Romeo is a Montague, and Juliet a Capulet. Their families are enmeshed in a feud, but the moment they meet—when Romeo and his friends attend a party at Juliet’s house in disguise ...
Jul 31, 2015 · Entire Play The prologue of Romeo and Juliet calls the title characters “star-crossed lovers”—and the stars do seem to conspire against these young lovers.Romeo is a Montague, and Juliet a Capulet. Their families are enmeshed in a feud, but the moment they meet—when Romeo and his friends attend a party at Juliet’s house in disguise ...
If Juliet really is dead, Romeo plans to drink the vial of poison and kill himself inside her tomb. Back in Verona, Friar Laurence learns that his brother in the cloth, Friar John, has failed to deliver the letter about Juliet’s feigned “death” to Romeo—Romeo has no idea that Juliet is really alive. Friar Laurence hurries to the Capulet ...
After Romeo is dragged to a masquerade at the Capulet house by Mercutio, his wild, fun-loving friend, and Benvolio, his cousin, Romeo falls in love with the beautiful Juliet—not realizing that she is a Capulet, and therefore his sworn enemy due to the feud between their families. Romeo quickly abandons his feelings for Rosaline and swears his ...
This distinction, as we have seen, is in part a question of speaking different discourses. Romeo easily picks up Mercutio’s banter, even its sly innuendo against women. Mercutio himself regards Romeo’s quickness at repartee as the hopeful sign of a return to a “normal” manly identity incompatible with his ridiculous role as lover:
Enter ROMEO and JULIET above, at the window JULIET 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. ROMEO It was the lark, the herald of the morn,