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SCENE I. - A Publick Place.
Tyb. Well, peace be with you, sir ! here comes my Enter Mercurio, Benvolio, Page, and Servants.
Ben. I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire; Mer. But I'll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery: The day is hot, the Capulets abroad,
Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower; And, if we meet, we shall not 'scape a brawl; Your worship, in that sense, may call him For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring.
Tyb. Romeo, the hate I bear thee, can afford Mer. Thou art like one of those fellows, that, No better term than this — Thou art a villain. when he enters the confines of a tavern, claps me
Rom. Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee his sword upon the table, and says, Heaven send me Doth much excuse the appertaining rage no need of thee ! and, by the operation of the second To such a greeting : – Villain am I none; cup, draws it on the drawer, when, indeed, there is Therefore, farewell; I see, thou know'st me not. no need.
Tyb. Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries Ben. Am I like such a fellow ?
That thou hast done me; therefore turn, and draw. Mer. Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy
Rom. I do protest I never injur’d thee ; mood as any in Italy; and as soon moved to be But love thee better than thou canst devise, moody, and as soon moody to be moved.
Till thou shalt know the reason of my love: Ben. And what to?
And so, good Capulet, which name I tender Mer. Nay, an there were two such, we should As dearly as mine own, — be satisfied. have none shortly, for one would kill the other. Mer. O calm, dishonourable, vile submission ! Thou ! why thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath A la stoccata 9 carries it away.
[Draws. a hair more, or a hair less, in his beard, than thou Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk ? hast. Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking Tyb. What wouldst thou have with me? nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast
Mer. Good king of cats, nothing, but one of your hazel eyes; What eye, but such an eye, would spy nine lives; that I mean to make bold withal, and as out such a quarrel ? Thy head is as full of quarrels you shall use me hereafter, dry.beat the rest of the as an egg is full of meat ; and yet thy head hath eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pilbeen beaten as addle as an egg, for quarrelling. cher' by the ears ? make haste, lest mine be about Thou hast quarrelled with a man for coughing in your ears ere it be out. the street, because he hath wakened thy dog that
Tyb. I am for you.
[Drawing. hath lain asleep in the sun. Didst thou not fall out
Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up. with a tailor for wearing his new doublet before
Mer. Come, sir, your passado. [They fight. Easter? with another, for tying his new shoes with Rom. Draw, Benvolio; old riband? and yet thou wilt tutor me from quar- Beat down their weapons:
- Gentlemen, for shame; relling!
Forbear this outrage;
Tybalt - Mercutio Ben. An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any The prince expressly hath forbid this bandying man should buy the fee-simple of my life for an In Verona streets : - hold, Tybalt; — good Merhour and a quarter.
cutio. (Exeunt Tybalt and his Partisans. Mer. The fee-simple? O simple!
Mer. I am hurt;
A plague o' both the houses ! - I am sped :
Is he gone, and hath nothing ?
What, art thou hurt? Ben. By my head, here come the Capulets.
Mer. Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis Mer. By my heel, I care not.
enough. Tyb. Follow me close, for I will speak to them.
Where is my page ? — go, villain, fetch a surgeon. Gentlemen, good den; a word with one of you.
(Exit Page. Mer. And but one word with one of us ? Couple it with something; make it a word and a blow.
Rom. Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much.
Mer. No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide Tyb. You will find me apt enough to that, sir, if as a church door; but 'tis enough, 'twill serve : ask you will give me occasion.
for me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave Mer. Could you not take some occasion without
I am peppered, I warrant, for this world :giving?
A plague o' both your houses ! - A dog, a rat, a Tyb. Mercutio, thou consortest with Romeo, Mer. Consort ? what, dost thou make us minstrels? | gart, a rogue, a villain, that fights by the book of
mouse, a cat, to scratch a man to death! a bragan thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing arithmetick! - Why, the devil, came you between but discords : here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall us? I was hurt under your arm. make you dance. Consort!
Rom. I thought all for the best.
Mer. Help me into some house, Benvolio,
Or I shall faint. - A plague o' both your houses ! Or reason coldly of your grievances, Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us.
They have made worm's meat of me:
I have it, and soundly too:— Your houses ! Mer. Men's eyes were made to look, and let them
[Exeunt MERCUTIO and Benvolio. gaze;
9 The Italian term for a thrust or stab with a rapier, I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.
Case or scabbard.
Rom. This gentleman, the prince's near ally, Of Tybalt, deaf to peace, but that he tilts My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt
With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast ; In my behalf; my reputation stain'd
Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point, With Tybalt's slander, Tybalt, that an hour And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats Hath been my kinsman : - O sweet Juliet,
Cold death aside, and with the other sends Thy beauty hath made me effeminate,
It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity
Retorts it; Romeo he cries aloud,
Hold friends ! friends part ! and, swifter than his
tongue, Ben. O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead ; His agile arm beats down their fatal points, That gallant spirit hath aspir'd the clouds,
And 'twixt them rushes; underneath whose arm Which too untimely here did scorn the earth. An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life Rom. This day's black fate on more days doth Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled : depend;
But by and by comes back to Romeo, This but begins the woe, others must end. Who had but newly entertain'd revenge,
And to't they go like lightning; for, ere I Re-enter TYBALT.
Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain; Ben. Here comes the furious Tybalt back again. And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fy:
Rom. Alive! in triumph! and Mercutio slain ! This is the truth, or let Benvolio die. Away to heaven, respective ? lenity,
La Cap. He is a kinsman to the Montague, And fire-ey'd fury be my conducts now!
Affection makes him false, he speaks not true: Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again,
Some twenty of them fought in this black strife, That late thou gav'st me; for Mercutio's soul And all those twenty could but kill one life : Is but a little way above our heads,
I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give ; Staying for thine to keep him company;
Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live. Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him. Prin. Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio; Tyb. Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort * him who now the price of his dear blood doth owe? here,
Mon. Not Romeo, prince, he was Mercutio's Shalt with him hence. Rom.
This shall determine that. His fault concludes but what the law should end,
[They fight ; Tybalt falls. The life of Tybalt. Ben. Romeo, away, be gone!
And, for that offence, The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain :
Immediately we do exile him hence : Stand not amaz'd : the prince will doom thee I have an interest in your hates' proceeding, death,
My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a bleeding; If thou art taken: – hence ! - be gone! - away! But I'll amerce 7 you with so strong a fine, Rom. O! I am fortune's fool!
That you shall all repent the loss of mine : Ben. Why dost thou stay? [Exit Romeo. I will be deaf to pleading and excuses ; Enter Citizens, fc.
Nor tears, nor prayers, shall purchase out abuses ;
Therefore use none: let Romeo hence in baste, i Cit. Which way ran he, that kill'd Mercutio ? Else, when he's found, that hour is his last. Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he ? Bear hence this body, and attend our will: Ben. There lies that Tybalt.
Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill
. 1 Cit.
Up, sir, go with me; I charge thee in the prince's name, obey.
SCENE II. - A Room in Capulet's House. Enter Prince, attended; MONTAGUE, CAPULET,
Enter JULIET. their Wives, and others.
Jul. Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, Prin. Where are the vile beginners of this fray ? Towards Phæbus' mansion; such a waggoner Ben. O noble prince, I can discover all
As Phaeton would whip you to the west, The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl :
And bring in cloudy night immediately. There lies the man slain by young Romeo, Spread thy close curtain, and come, civil 8 night, That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.
Thou sober-suited matron, all in black : La. Cap. Tybalt, my cousin ! - O my brother's Come, night! - Come, Romeo! come, thou day in child!
night! Unhappy sight! ah me, the blood is spill'd For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night Of my dear kinsman! – Prince, as thou art true 5, Whiter than new snow on a raven's back. For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague. Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-brow'd O cousin, cousin !
night, Prin. Benvolio, who began this bloody fray ? Give me my Romeo : and when he shall die, Ben. Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine, Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him bethink That all the world will be in love with night, How nice 6 the quarrel was, and urg'd withal And pay no worship to the garish 9 sun. — Your high displeasure : All this uttered
Enter Nurse, with Cords. With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd,
Here comes my nurse, Could not take truce with the unruly spleen And she brings news; and every tongue, that speaks, 2 Considerate. 3 Conductor. * Accompany.
But Romeo's name, speaks heavenly eloquence
. Just and upright.
6 Slight, unimportant. - Punish by fine. & Grave, solemn.
Now, nurse, what news ? What hast thou there, the Nurse. Will you speak well of him that kill'd cords,
your cousin ? That Romeo bade thee fetch ?
Jul. Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband? Nurse.
Ay, ay, the cords. Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shallsmooth thy name,
[Throws them down. When I, thy three-hours' wife, have mangled it? – Jul. Ah me! what news! why dost thou wring But, wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin ? thy hands?
That villain cousin would have kill'd my husband : Nurse. Ah well-a-day! he's dead, he's dead, he's Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring; dead !
Your tributary drops belong to woe, We are undone, lady, we are undone!
Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy. Alack the day! - he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead! My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain ; Jul. Can heaven be so envious ?
And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husNurse.
band : Though heaven cannot :- O Romeo! Romeo ! All this is comfort; Wherefore weep I then ? Who ever would have thought it ? - Romeo ! Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death,
Jul. What devil art thou, that dost torment me thus? | That murder'd me: I would forget it fain ;
Like horrid guilty deeds to sinners' minds :
Tybalt is dead, and Romeo -- banished; I am not I, if there be such an I:
That - banished, that one word - banished, Or those eyes shut, that make thee answer, 1. Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death If he be slain, say - I; or if not, no:
Was woe enough, if it had ended there : Brief sounds determine of my weal, or woe, Or, -- if sour woe delights in fellowship,
Nurse. I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes,- And needly will be rank'd with other griefs, 'Twas here, e'en here, upon his manly breast : Why follow'd not, when she said - Tybalt's dead, A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse ;
Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both, Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub'd in blood, Which modern 2 lamentation might have mov'd ? All in gore blood; I swoonded at the sight. But, with a rear-ward following Tybalt's death, Jul. O break, my heart ! - poor bankrupt, break Romeo is banished, -- to speak that word, at once!
Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet, To prison, eyes! ne'er look on liberty!
All slain, all dead : — Romeo is banished, Vile earth, to earth resign ; end motion here; There is no end, no limit, measure, bound, And thou, and Romeo, press one heavy bier ! In that word's death; no words can that woe sound.
Nurse. O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had! Where is my father, and my mother, nurse? O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman !
Nurse. Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corses That ever I should live to see thee dead!
Will you go to them? I will bring you thither. Jul. What storm is this, that blows so contrary? Jul. Wash they his wounds with tears? mine shall Is Romeo slaughter'd; and is Tybalt dead ?
be spent, My dear-lov'd cousin, and my dearer lord ? When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment. Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom! Take up those cords: - Poor ropes, you are beguild. For who is living, if those two are gone ?
Both you and I; for Romeo is exil'd. Nurse. Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished; Nurse. Hie to your chamber: I'll find Romeo Romeo, that kill'd him, he is banished.
To comfort you :- I wot 3 well where he is. Jul. 'O heaven !- did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night; blood ?
I'll to him; he is hid at Laurence' cell. Nurse. It did, it did ; alas the day! it did. Jul. O find him! give this ring to my true knight,
Jul. O serpent heart, hid with a flow'ring face ! And bid him come to take his last farewell. Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave ?
[Ereunt. Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical !
SCENE III. - Friar Laurence's Cell. Dove-feather'd raven! wolvish ravening lamb ! Despised substance of divinest show!
Enter Friar LAURENCE and Romeo. Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st:
Fri. Romeo, come forth ; come forth, thou fearWas ever book, containing such vile matter,
ful man; So fairly bound? O, that deceit should dwell
Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts,
And thou art wedded to calamity.
Rom. Father, what news? what is the prince's No faith, no honesty in men; all perjur'd,
doom? All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.
What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand, Ah, where's my man? give me some aqua vitæ :
That I yet know not ? These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old.
Too familiar Shame come to Romeo !
Is my dear son with such sour company : Jul.
Blister'd be thy tongue, I bring thee tidings of the prince's dooin. For such a wish! he was not born to shame : Rom. What less than dooms-day is the prince's Upon his brow shame is asham'd to sit;
doom? For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd Fri. A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips, Sole monarch of the universal earth.
Not body's death, but body's banishment. 0, what a beast was I to chide at him!
Rom. "Ha! banishment? be merciful, say— death : "In Shakspeare's time the affirmative particle ay, was
For exile hath more terror in his look, usually written I, and here it is necessary to retain the old Much more than death : do not say. — banishment. spelling.
Fri. Hence from Verona art thou banished: What wilfulness is this? - I come, I come. Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.
(Knocking. Rom. There is no world without Verona walls, Who knocks so hard ? whence come you? what's Hence-banished is banish'd from the world,
your will ? And world's exíle is death : - then banishment Nurse. [Within.] Let me come in, and you shall Is death mis-term'd: calling death - banishment,
know my errand; Thou cutt'st my head off with a golden axe, I come from lady Juliet. And smil'st upon the stroke that murders me.
Nurse. O holy friar, 0, tell me, holy friar, And turn'd that black word death to banishment : Where is my lady's lord, where's Romeo ? This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not.
Fri. There on the ground, with his own tears Rom. 'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here,
made drunk. Where Juliet lives; and every cat, and dog,
Nurse. O, he is even in my mistress' case, And little mouse, every unworthy thing,
Just in her case! Live here in heaven, and may look on her,
O woeful sympathy! But Romeo may not. More validity 4,
Piteous predicament ! More honourable state, more courtship lives
Even so lies she, In carrion flies, than Romeo : they may seize Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering:-On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand,
Stand up, stand up; stand, an you be a man: And steal immortal blessing from her lips; For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand; Who, even in pure and vestal modesty,
Why should you fall into so deep an 0? Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin;
Rom. Nurse! But Romeo may not; he is banished:
Nurse. Ah sir! ah sir! - Well, death's the end Flies may do this, when I from this must fly;
of all. They are free men, but I am banished.
Rom. Spak'st thou of Juliet ? how is it with her? And say'st thou yet, that exile is not death? Does she not think me an old murderer, Hadst thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground knife, Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean, With blood remov'd but little from her own? But, — banished - to kill me ; banished ?
Where is she? and how doth she? and what says O cruel friar, how hast thou the heart,
My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love? Being a divine, a ghostly confessor,
Nurse. O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps
and A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd,
weeps; To mangle me with that word — banishment ? And now falls on her bed; and then starts up, Fri. Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak a And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries, word.
And then down falls again. Rom. O, thou wilt speak again of banishment. Rom.
As if that name, Fri. I'll give thee armour to keep off that word; Shot from the deadly level of a gun, Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy,
Did murder her; as that name's cursed hand To comfort thee, though thou art banished. Murder'd her kinsman. – O tell me, friar, tell me
Rom. Yet banished? — Hang up philosophy! In what vile part of this anatomy Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,
Doth my name lodge ? tell me, that I may sack Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom;
The hateful mansion. It helps not, it prevails not, talk no more.
Hold thy desperate hand: Fri. O, then I see that madmen have no ears. Art thou a man? thy form cries out, thou art; Rom. How should they, when that wise men Thy tears are womanish, thy wild acts denote bave no eyes?
The unreasonable fury of a beast :
Thou hast amaz'd me: by my holy order,
Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself? Doting like me, and like me banished,
And slay thy lady too that lives in thee, Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy By doing violence upon thyself? hair,
Why rail'st thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth? And fall upon the ground as I do now,
Since birth, and heaven, and earth, all three do mest Taking the measure of an unmade grave.
In thee at once; which thou at once wouldst lose. Fri. Arise ; one knocks; good Romeo, hide Fye, fye! thou sham'st thy shape, thy love
, thy wit; thyself.
(Knocking within. Which, like an usurer, abound'st in all, Rom. Not I; unless the breath of heart-sick And usest none in that true use indeed groans,
Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit. Mist-like, infold me from the search of eyes. Thy noble shape is but a form of wax,
(Knocking. Digressing from the valour of a man : Fri. Ilark, how they knock! - Who's there? Thy dear love, sworn, but hollow perjury, Romeo, arise :
Killing that love which thou bast vow'd to cherish; Thou wilt be taken ; — Stay a while: stand up ; Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love,
(Knocking. Mis-shapen in the conduct of them both, Run to my study: - By and by : - - I come! Like powder in a skill-less soldier's flask, 4 Worth, value.
Is set on fire by thine own ignorance,
(Drauing his Suard
And thou dismember'd with thine own defence. Par.
Monday, my lord. What, rouse thee, man! thy Juliet is alive,
Cap. Monday? ha! ha! Well, Wednesday is too For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead ; There art thou happy: Tybalt would kill thee, O'Thursday let it be; - o' Thursday, tell her, But thou slew’st Tybalt; there art thou happy too : She shall be married to this noble earl : The law, that threaten'd death, becomes thy friend, Will you be ready? do you like this haste ? And turns it to exile ; there art thou happy : We'll keep no great ado; - a friend, or two : A pack of blessings lights upon thy back:
For, hark you, Tybalt being slain so late, Happiness courts thee in her best array;
It may be thought we held him carelessly, But, like a mis-behav'd and sullen wench,
Being our kinsman, if we revel much : Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love : Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends, Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable. And there an end. But what say you to Thursday? Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed,
Par. My lord, I would that Thursday were toAscend her chamber, hence and comfort her ;
morrow. But, look, thou stay not till the watch be set, Cap. Well, get you gone : - O'Thursday be it For then thou canst not pass to Mantua ;
then :Where thou shalt live, till we can find a time Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed, To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends, Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day, Beg pardon of the prince, and call thee back Farewell
, my lord. — Light to my chamber, ho! With twenty hundred thousand times more joy Afore me, it is so very late, that we Than thou went'st forth in lamentation. —
May call it early by and by :- Good night. Go before, nurse : commend me to thy lady ;
(Eseunt. And bid her hasten all the house to bed, Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto:
SCENE V. - Juliet's Chamber.
Enter Romeo and JULIET.
Jul. Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day : My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come.
It was the nightingale, and not the lark, Rom. Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide. That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear ;
Nurse. Here, sir, a ring she bid me give you, sir: Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree: Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late.
Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.
Rom. It was the lark, the herald of the morn,
[Erit Nurse. Rom. How well my comfort is reviv'd by this !
No nightingale : look, love, what envious streaks Fri. Go hence : Good night: and here stands all Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east :
Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day your state 5; Either be gone before the watch be set,
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops ; Or by the break of day disguis'd from hence :
I must be gone and live, or stay and die. Sojourn in Mantua ; I'll find out your man,
Jul. Yon light is not day-light, I know it, I: And he shall signify from time to time
It is some meteor that the sun exhales, Every good hap to you, that chances here :
To be to thee this night a torch-bearer, Give me thy hand; 'tis late; farewell ; good night. And light thee on thy way to Mantua : Rom. But that a joy past joy calls out on me,
Therefore stay yet, thou need'st not to be gone. It were a grief, so brief to part with thee :
Rom. Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death; Farewell.
I am content, so thou wilt have it so.
I'll say, yon grey is not the morning's eye,
"Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow! 8
Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat
The vaulty heaven so high above our heads :
Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so. That we have had no time to move our daughter :
How is't my soul ? let's talk, it is not day. Look you, she lov'd her kinsman Tybalt dearly,
Jul. It is, it is, bie hence, be gone, away; And so did I ; – Well, we were born to die.
It is the lark that sings so out of tune, 'Tis very late, she'll not come down to-night :
Straining harsh discords, and unpleasing sharps. I promise you, but for your company,
Some say, the lark makes sweet division'; I would have been a-bed an hour ago.
This doth not so, for she divideth us : Par. These times of woe afford no time to woo; o, now would they had changed voices too ;
Some say, the lark and loathed toad change eyes; Madam, good night; commend me to your daughter. La. Cap. I will
, and know her mind early to- | 0, now be gone; more light and light it grows. morrow ;
Rom. More light and light? - more dark and
dark our woes. To-night she's mew'd 6 up to her heaviness. Cap. Sir Paris, I will make a desperate 7 tender
Enter Nurse. of my child's love : I think, she will be rul'd
Nurse. Madam! In all respects by me; nay more, I doubt it not.
Jul. Nurse? Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed ;
Nurse. Your lady mother's coming to your Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love;
chamber : And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next – The day is broke ; be wary, look about. But soft: What day is this?
[Exit Nurse The whole of your fortune depends on this.
• Reflection of the moon.
Inclination • Shut up
Division was the technical phrase for musical cote