Cold death aside, and with the other sends Retorts it Romeo, he cries aloud, Hold, friends, friends, part! and, swifter than his tongue, His agile arm beats down their fatal points, And 'twixt them rushes, underneath whose arm Cap. He is a kinsman to the Montagues, Prince. Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio; Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe? Mon. Romeo but took the forfeit life of Tibalt. Prince. And we, for that offence, do banish him. I have an interest in your heady brawls; My blood doth flow from brave Mercutio's wounds, That you shall all repent my loss in him, Else, when he is found, that hour is his last. Exeunt. SCENE II. An Apartment in CAPULET'S House. Enter JULIET alone. Jul. Gallop apace, you fiery footed steeds, To Phoebus' mansion; such a waggoner As Phaeton, would whip you to the west, And bring in cloudy night immediately. Spread thy close curtain, love performing night, That the run-away's eyes may wink; and Romeo Leap to these arms, untalk'd of, and unseen, Come night, come Romeo! Come thou day in night! For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night, Whiter than snow upon the raven's back : Give me my Romeo, night, and when he dies, Take him, and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of Heaven so fine, That all the world will be in love with night, And pay no worship to the garish sun. Oh, here comes my Nurse; Enter NURSE. And she brings news, and every tongue that speaks Why dost thou wring thy hands? Nurse. Ah well-a-day, he's dead, he's dead, he's dead! We are undone, lady, we are undone Jul. Can Heaven be so envious? Nurse. Romeo can, Though Heaven cannot. Oh! Romeo! Romeo! Jul. What deyil art thou, that dost torment me thus ? This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell. Nurse. I saw the wound, I saw it, with mine eyes, Jul. Oh, break, my heart!-poor bankrupt, break at once! To prison, eyes! ne'er look on liberty; Vile earth to earth resign; end motion here, Nurse. Oh, Tibalt, Tibalt, the best friend I had; That ever I should live to see thee dead! Jul. What storm is this, that blows so contrary? Is Romeo slaughter'd? and is Tibalt dead? Nurse. Tibalt is dead, and Romeo banished: Jul. Banished! is Romeo banished? Nurse. Romeo, that kill'd him, he is banished. Jul. Oh! Heaven! Did Romeo's hand shed Tibalt's blood? Nurse. It did, it did; alas the day, it did! Jul. Oh, nature! What hadst thou to do in hell, When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh? Oh that deceit should dwell In such a gorgeous palace! Nurse. There is no trust, No faith, no honesty in men; all perjur'd; Jul. Blister'd be thy tongue, For such a wish; he was not born to shame; For 'tis a throne, where honour may be crown'd Oh what a wretch was I to chide him so! Nurse. Will you speak well of him, that kill'd your cousin? Jul. Shall I speak ill of him, that is my husband? Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name, When I thy three hours wife have mangled it? Which you mistaking, offer up to joy. My husband lives, that Tibalt would have slain, And Tibalt's dead, thatwould have kill'd my husband; All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then? Some word there was worser than Tibalt's death, Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds; In that word Is father, mother, Tibalt, Romeo, Juliet, Where is my father, and my mother, Nurse? Nurse. Weeping and wailing over Tibalt's corse : Will you go to them? I will bring you thither. Jul. Wash they his wounds with tears! my eyes shall flow, When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment. Nurse. I'll find Romeo, To comfort you. I wot well where he is; He is hid at Lawrence' cell. Jul. Oh find him, give this ring to my true lord, . And bid him come to take his last farewell. [Exeunt. SCENE III. The Monastery. Enter FRIAR LAWRENCE and ROMEO. Fri. Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man. Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts; And thou art wedded to calamity. Rom. Father, what news? what is the Prince's doom? What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand, Is Fri. Too familiar my dear son with such sour company. I bring thee tidings of the Prince's doom. Rom. What less than death can be the Prince's doom? Fri. A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips; Not body's death, but body's banishment. Rom. Ha! banishment? be merciful, say, death; For exile hath more ter. or in his look, Much more than death: Do not say, banishment; Rom. "Tis torture, and not mercy Heav'n is here, Where Juliet lives. There's more felicity |