SCENE II.

A Room in CAPULET'S House.

Enter JULIEt.

Jul. Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,
Towards 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, unawares, eyes may wink, and Romeo
Leap to these arms, untalk'd of, and unseen!
Lovers can see to do their amorous rites
By their own beauties; or if love be blind,
It best agrees with night. Come, civil night,
Thou sober-suited matron, all in black,
And learn me how to lose a winning match,
Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods:
Hood my unmann'd blood, bating in my cheeks,
With thy black mantle; till strange love, grown bold,
Think true love acted simple modesty.

Come night, come Romeo, come thou day in night;
For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night

Whiter than new snow upon a raven's back.

Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-brow'd night,
Give me my Romeo: and, when he shall die,

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. -
0, I have bought the mansion of a love,
But not possess'd it; and though I am sold,
Not yet enjoy'd. So tedious is this day,

As is the night before some festival

To an impatient child that hath new robes,

And may not wear them. O! here comes my nurse.

Enter Nurse, with Cords.

And she brings news; and ev'ry tongue, that speaks
But Romeo's name, speaks heavenly eloquence.

What hast thou there? the cords

Now, nurse, what news?
That Romeo bade thee fetch?

Nurse.

Ay, ay, the cords.

[Throws them down.

Jul. Ah me! what news? why dost thou wring thy hands? Ah well-a-day! he's dead, he's dead, he's dead!

Nurse.

We are undone, lady, we are undone !

Alack the day! he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead!
Jul. Can heaven be so envious?
Nurse.

Romeo can,

O Romeo, Romeo!

Who ever would have thought it? Romeo!

Jul. What devil art thou, that dost torment me thus?
This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell.
Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but I.
And that bare vowel, I, shall poison more
Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice:
I am not I, if there be such an I;

Or those eyes shut, that make thee answer, I.
If he be slain, say—I; or if not

no:

Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe.

Nurse. I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes, God save the mark! - here on ais manly breast:

A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse;

Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub'd in blood,

All in gore blood; I swounded at the sight.
Jul. O break, my heart!

poor bankrupt, break at once!

To prison, eyes; ne'er look on liberty:

Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here,
And thou, and Romeo, press one heavy bier!
Nurse. O Tybalt, Tybalt! the best friend I had:

O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman!
That ever I should live to see thee dead!

Jul. What storm is this that blows so contrary?

Is Romeo slaughter'd? and is Tybalt dead?
My dear-lov'd cousin, and my dearer lord?
Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom;
For who is living, if those two are gone?

Nurse. Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished:
Romeo, that kill'd him, he is banished.

Jul. O God!

did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood? Nurse. It did, it did: alas the day! it did.

Jul. O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face! Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?

Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical!
Dove-feather'd raven! wolvish-ravening lamb!
Despised substance of divinest show!
Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st;
A damned saint, an honourable villain!
O, nature! what hadst thou to do in hell,
When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend
In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh? -
Was ever book containing such vile matter,
So fairly bound? O, that deceit should dwell
In such a gorgeous palace!

Nurse.

There's no trust,

No faith, no honesty in men; all perjur'd,

All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.

Ah! where's my man? give me some aqua vitæ:

These griefs, these woes,

Shame come to Romeo!

Jul.

these sorrows make me old.

Blister'd be thy tongue,

For such a wish! he was not born to shame:

Upon his brow shame is asham'd to sit;

For 't is a throne where honour may be crown'd
Sole monarch of the universal earth.

0, what a beast was I to chide at him!

Nurse. Will you speak well of him that kill'd your
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? -

cousin?

But, wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my
cousin?
That villain cousin would have kill'd my husband:
Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring;
Your tributary drops belong to woe,

Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy.

My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain;

And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband:
All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then?

Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death,

That murder'd me. I would forget it fain;

But, O! it presses to my memory,

Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds:
Tybalt is dead, and Romeo banished!

That - banished, that one word

banished,

Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death
Was woe enough, if it had ended there:
Or, if sour woe delights in fellowship,
And needly will be rank'd with other griefs,
Why follow'd not, when she said Tybalt 's dead,
Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both,
Which modern lamentation might have mov'd?
But, with a rear-ward following Tybalt's death,
Romeo is banished! to speak that word,
Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,
All slain, all dead: Romeo is banished!
There is no end, no limit, measure, bound,
In that word's death; no words can that woe sound.
Where is my father, and my mother, nurse?

Nurse. Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corse:

Will you go to them? I will bring you thither.

Jul. Wash they his wounds with tears? mine shall be spent, When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment.

Take up those cords. Poor ropes, you are beguil'd,

---

Both you and I, for Romeo is exil'd:

He made you for a highway to my bed,

But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed.

Come, cords; come, nurset I'll to my wedding bed;
And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead!

Nurse. Hie to your chamber; I'll find Romeo
I wot well where he is.

To comfort you:

Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night:

I'll to him; he is hid at Laurence' cell.

Jul. 0, find him! give this ring to my true knight, And bid him come to take his last farewell.

SCENE III.

Friar LAURENCE'S Cell.

Enter Friar LAURENCE and ROMEO.

[Exeunt.

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 my dear son with such sour company:

I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom.

Rom. What less than dooms-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! banishment? be merciful, say

For exile hath more terror in his look,

Much more than death: do not say - banishment.
Fri. Hence from Verona art thou banished.

Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.

- death;

Rom. There is no world without Verona walls;

But purgatory, torture, hell itself.

Hence banished is banish'd from the world,
And world's exile is death; then, banished
Is death mis-term'd: calling death-- banishment,
Thou cut'st my head off with a golden axe,

And smil'st upon the stroke that murders me.