Romeo: Let me be taken, let me be put to death,
I am content, so you will have it so.
I’ll say, that grey is not the morning’s eye,
It is only the pale reflex of Cynthia’s brow;
Nor that it 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 likes it so.
How is it, my soul? Let’s talk. It is not day.
Juliet: It is, it is. Away, be gone, away!
It is the lark that sings so out of tune,
Diffusing strident discords and unpleasing tunes.
Some say the lark makes sweet music.
This doesn’t do so, for she divides us now,
And arm from arm her voice does us compel
Hunting you from here with hunt’s-up* to the day.
O, now be gone, more light and light it grows.
Romeo:
More light and light: more dark and dark our woes!

hunt’s up: the morning song to awaken a newly married couple, derived from the song originally used to wake huntsmen.

TEXT 4 (Act V, Scene III)

An unwilling killer

The scene is set in the churchyard where the Capulets’ tomb stands.
Paris is paying his nightly visit to Juliet, and comes across Romeo, back from Mantua and mad with despair

Enter Paris and his Page.
Paris: Give me your torch, boy. Away and wait under that tree;
If any footstep you do hear, whistle then to me,
As signal that you hear something approach.
Give me those flowers. Do as I order you. Go.