His rage moves rather quickly in this scene (III.v). It
begins with misunderstanding, which is a place wherein most
anger does indeed begin for all people:
Soft! take me with you, take me with you,
wife.
How! will she none? doth she not give us thanks?
Is she not
proud? doth she not count her blest,
Unworthy as she is, that we have
wrought
So worthy a gentleman to be her
bridegroom?
So at first, he
does not understand what would be so difficult about being given the great chance to
marry a worthy mate.
Although Juliet expresses her thanks
for this great gift, Capulet grow more upset because he feels unappreciated for his
effort. Misunderstanding grows into being demanding, which
all parents have the right to do:
Thank me no thankings, nor, proud me no
prouds,
But fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next,
To go
with Paris to Saint Peter's Church,
Or I will drag thee on a hurdle
thither.
Out, you green-sickness carrion! out, you baggage!
You
tallow-face!
Juliet begs him
to try to understand, but his demand grows stronger into the desire to hit. We see this
in the italicized words below:
Hang 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.
Capulet will
not listen to his daughter and has made that clear. He is denying her opportunity to
speak. His anger grows into madness:
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
match'd:
All of us have heard
our parents use the defense that they work their whole lives for us, their children.
Capulet is feeling fruitless in his labor for his
daughter.
Finally, when Capulet is at complete rage, he
gives his final ultimatum, if Juliet doesn't marry Paris, her only other option is to be
kicked out of their home:
Graze where you will you shall not house with
me:
Look 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;
And you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in
the
streets,
For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge
thee,
No comments:
Post a Comment