« PreviousContinue »
Nurse. Hie to your chamber, I'll find Romeo
To comfort you.
I wot well, where he is.
Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night;
I'll to him, he is hid at Lawrence' cell.
Jul. O find him, give this ring to my true knight,
And bid him come, to take this last farewel.
Fri. OMEO, come forth; come forth, thou fearful
Afliction is enamour'd of thy parts,
And thou art wedded to calamity.
kom. Father, what news? what is the Prince's doom?
What forrow craves acquaintance at my hand,
That I yet know not?
Fri, Too familiar
Is my dear son with such sow'r company.
I bring thee tidings of the Prince's doom.
Rom. What less than doons-day is the Prince's doom?
Fri. A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips,
Not body's death, but body's banishment.
Rom. Ha, banilhment! be' merciful, say, death;
For exile hath more terror in his look,
Much more than death. Do not say, banishment.
Fri. Here from Verona art thou banished:
Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.
Rom. There is no world withouc Verona's walls,
purgatory, torture, hell it self.
Hence banished, is banish'd from the world ;
And world-exild, is death. That banished
Is death mif-term’d: calling death banishment,
Thou cut'l my head off with a golden ax,
And smil'st upon the stroak that murthers me,
Fri. O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness!
Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind Prince,
Taking thy part, hath rusht aside the law,
And turn'd that black word death to banishment.
This is dear mercy, and thou feeft it not.
Rom. 'Tis torture, and not mercy : heav'n is here,
Where Juliet lives ; and every cat and dog
And little mouse, every unworthy thing,
Lives here in heaven, and may look on her ;
But Romeo may not. More validity,
More honourable state, more courtship lives
In carrion Aies, than Romeo : they may seize
On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand,
And steal immortal blessings from her lips ;
(Which even in pure and vestal modesty
Still blush, as thinking their own kisses fin.)
This may Aies do, when I from this must fly;
(And say’ft thou yet, that exile is not death?)
But Romeo may not; - he is banished.
Hadst thou no Poison mixt, no sharp-ground knife,
No sudden mean of death, tho' ne'er so mean,
But banished to kill me? banished ?
O Friar, the Damned use that word in hell ;
Howlings attend it: how hast thou the heart,
Being a Divine, a ghostly Confessor,
A fin-absolver, and my friend profest,
To mangle me with that word, banishment?
Fri. Fond mad.man, hear me speak.
Rom. O, thou wilt speak again of banishment.
Fri. I'll give thee armour to keep off that word,
Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy,
To comfort thee, tho' thou art banished.
Rom. Yet, banished ? hang up philosophy :
Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,
Displant a town, reverse a Prince's doom,
It helps not, it prevails not, talk no more
Fri, O, then I see that mad men have no ears.
Rom. How should they, when that wise men have no
Fri. Let me dispute with thee of thy estabe.
Rom. Thou canst not speak of what thou doft not feel : Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
An hour but married, Tybalt murthered,
Doating like me, and like me banished;
Then might'st thou speak, then migheft thou tear thy
And fall upon the ground as I do now,
Taking the measure of an unmade grave.
[Tbroring bimself on the ground. Fri. Arise, one knocks ; good Romeo, hide thy felf,
[Knock witbin. Rom. Not ), unless the breath of heartfick Groans, Mist-like, infold me from the Search of Eyes. [Knock
Fri. Hark, how they knock!-(who's there?) Ro
Thou wilt be taken (stay a while) a stand op;
[Knocks. Run to my Study (By and by) God's will ! What willfulnefs is this? I come, I.comc. [Knock. Who knocks so hard? whence come you? what's your
will? Nurse. [Witbin.] Let me come in, and you shall know
my errand: I come from lady Juliet.
Fri. Welcome then.
Enter Nurfe. Nurse. O holy Friar, oh, tell me, holy Friar, Where is my lady's lord? where's Romeo ? Fri. There, on the ground, with his own tears made
. O he is even in my mistress' case,
Just in her case, O woful sympathy!
Piteous predicament! even so lies The,
Blubb'ring and weeping, weeping and blubbering.
Stand up, stand up; Stand, an you be a Man:
For Juliet's Sake, for her Sake, rise and stand.
Why should you fall into so deep an oh!
Nurse. Ah Sir? ah Sir! Death is the end of all.
Rom. Speak’lt thou of Juliet? how is it with her?
Doth not the think me an old murtherer,
Now I have stain'd'the child-hood of our joy
With blood, remov'd but little from her own?
. Where is she? and how does the ? and what says
My conceald lady to our cancell'd love?
. O, she says nothing, Sir ; but weeps and weeps.
And now falls on her bed, and then starts up,
And Tybalt cries, and then on Romeo calls,
And then down falls again.
Rom. As if that name,
Shot from the deadly level of a gun,
Did murther her, as that name's cursed hand
Murther'd her kinsman. -Tell me, 'Friar, tell me,
In what vile part of this anatomy
Doth my name lodge? tell me, that I may fack
Ine hateful mansion.
[Drawing bis Sword.
Fri. Hold thy desperate hand:
Thy tears are womanish, thy wild acts denote
Th' unreasonable fury of a beast.
Unseemly Woman in a seeming Man !
And ill' beseeming Beast in seeming Both!
Thou haft amaz'd me. By my holy Order,
I thought thy disposition better temper'd.
Hast thou Nain Tybalt? wilt thou say thy self?
And say thy lady, that in thy Life lives,
By doing damned Hate upon thy self?
Why rail'lt thou on thy Birth, the Heav'n, and Earth,
Since Birth, and Heav'n, and Earth, all three do meet
In thee at once, which Thou at once would'st lose?
Fie! fie! thou sham'st thy Shape, thy Love, thy Wit,
Which, like an Usurer, abound'ft in all,
And useft none in that true use indeed,
Which should bedeck thy Shape, thy Love, thy Wit.
Thy nobl. Shape is but a Form of Wax,
Digressing from the Valour of a Man;
Thy dear Love sworn, but hollow Perjury,
Killing that Love, which thou hast vow'd to cherish,
Thy Wit, that Ornament to Shape and Love,
Mif-shapen in the Conduct of them Both,
Like Powder in a skill-less Soldier's Flask,
Is set on Fire by thine own Ignorance,
And thou dismember'd with thine own Defenfe.
What, rouse thee, man, thy Juliet is alive,
For whose dear fake thou wast but lately dead:
There are thou happy. Tybalt would kill thee,
But thou sew'st Tybalt; there thou're happy too.
The law, that threatned death, became thy friend,
And turn'd it to exile'; there art thou happy, ;
A pack of blessings light upon thy back,
Happiness courts thee in her best
But, like a misbehav'd and sullen wench,
Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love.
Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable.
Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed,
Ascend her chamber, 'hence and comfort her:
But, look, thou stay not 'till the Watch be set;
For then thou canst not pass to Mantua :
Where thou shalt live, 'till we can find a time
To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends,
Beg pardon of thy Prince, and call thee back
With twenty hundred thousand times more joy,
Than thou went ft forth in lamentation.
Go before, nurse ; commend me to thy lady,
And bid her haften all the house to bed,
Which heavy forrow makes them apt unto.
Romeo is coming.
Nurse. O lord, I could have staid here all night long,
To hear good counsel: oh, what Learning is !
My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come.
Rom. Do so, and bid my Sweet prepare to chide.
Nurse. Here, Sir, a ring she bid me give you, Sir: Hie you, make hafte, for it grows very late.
Rom. How well my comfort is reviv'd by this !
Fri. Sojourn in Mantua ; I'll find out your man, :
And he shall signifie from time to time
Every good hap to you that chances here:
Give me thy hand, 'tis late, farewel, good night.
Rom. But that a joy, past joy, calls out on me,
It were a grief, so brief to part with thee. [Exeunt.