Fri. Too familiar

Is my dear fon with such four 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 terror in his look,
Much more than death: Do not say banishment;
'Tis death mif-term'd calling death banishment;
Thou cut'ft my head off with a golden ax,
And smil'st upon the stroke that murders me.

Fri. O deadly fin! O rude unthankfulness!
Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind prince,
Taking thy part hath push'd aside the law,
And turn'd that black word death to banishment,
This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not.

Rom. 'Tis torture, and not mercy: heav'n is here
Where Juliet lives. There's more felicity
In carrion-flies, than Romeo: they may feize
On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand,
And steal immortal hlessings from her lips;
But Romeo may not, he is banished!
O father, hadst thou no strong poison mixt,
No sharm-ground knife, no present means of death,
But banifument to torture me withal.

Fri. Fond mad-man, hear me speak,
I'll give thee armour to bear 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,
It helps not, it prevails not, talk no more-
Fri. Let me dispute with thee of thy estate.
Rom. 'Thou canst not speak of what thou doft not feel :

Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
An hour but married, Tibalt murdered:

Doting like me, and like me banished;

Then might'st thou speak, then might'st thou tear thy hair,

And fall upon the ground as I do now,

Taking the measure of an unmade grave.

[Throwing himself on the ground.

Fri.

Fri. Arife, one knocks; good Romeo hide thyself. [Knock within.

Rom. Not I, unless the breath of heart-fick groans, Mift-like, infold me from the fearch of eyes. Fri. Hark how they knock- -Romeo, arife. Who's there?

Thou wilt be taken-stay a while-stand up;

(Knocks.

Run to my study-By and by

God's will;

What wilfulness is this! - I come, I come.

[Knock.

Who knocks fo hard? whence come you? what's your will?

Nurse. [within] Let me come in, and you shall know

my errand :

I come from lady Juliet.

Enter Nurse.

Fri. Welcome then.

Nurse. O holy Friar, oh tell me, holy Friar,

[drunk.

Where is my lady's lord? where's Romeo ?
Fri. There, on the ground, with his own tears made
Nurse. O he is even in my mistress's cafe,

Just in her cafe: O Juliet, Juliet!

Rom. Speak'st thou of Juliet! how is it with her? Since I have stain'd the childhood of our joy With blood,

Where is she? how does she? what says she?

Nurse. O, she says nothing, Sir, but weeps and weeps And now falls on her bed, and then starts up, And Tibalt 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 murder her. Oh tell me, Friar, tell me,

In what vile part of this anatomy

Doth my name lodge ? tell me, that I may fack
The hateful manfion.

:

Fri. Hold thy defperate hand:
Art thou a man? thy form cries out, thou art;
Thy tears are womanish, thy wild acts note
Th' unreasonable fury of a beaft.
Thou haft amaz'd me. By my holy order,
I thought thy disposition better-temper'd.
Haft thou flain Tibalt? wilt thou slay thyfelf?
And flay thy lady too, that lives in thee ?

What,

What, rouze thee, man, thy Juliet is alive,
Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed;
Afcend her chamber, hence and comfort her:
But look thou stay not 'till the watch be fet,
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'st forth in lamentation.
Go before, nurse; commend me to thy lady,
And bid her haften all the house to rest,
Romeo is coming.

Nurse. Olord, 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 the 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 fignify 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 foon to part with thee.

Cap.

SCENE

Capulet's House.

VI.

[Exeunt.

Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, and Paris.

T

Hings have fall'n out, Sir,

fo unluckily

That we have had no time to move our

daughter :

Look you, she lov'd her kinsman Tibalt dearly,
And fo did I-Well, we were born to die
'Tis very late, she'll not come down to night.

Par. These times of grief afford no time to woo : Madam, good night, commend me to your daughter.

Cap. Sir Paris, I will make a defperate tender

Of my child's love: I think she will be rul'd

In

In all respects by me, nay more, I doubt it not.
But, soft; what day? Well, Wednesday is too foon,
On Thursday (let it be :) you shall be marry'd.
We'll keep no great ado a friend or two-
For, hark you, Tibalt being flain so late,
It may be thought we held him carelesly,
Being our kinsman, if we revel much :
Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends,
And there's an end. But what say you to Thursday?

Par. My lord, I would that Thursday were to-morrow.
Cap. Well, get you gone

on Thursday be it then:

[To lady Cap.

Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed:
Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day.
Farewel, my lord-light to my chamber, hoa!
Good-night.

[Exeunt.

The Garden.

Enter Romeo and Juliet above at a window; a ladder

Jl. W

of Ropes fet.

ILT thou be gone? it is not yet near day:
It was the Nightingale, and not the Lark,

That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear;
Nightly she sings on you pomegranate tree :
Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.

Rom. It was the Lark, the herald of the morn,
No Nightingale. Look, love, what envious streaks
Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east:
Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops,
I must be gone and live, or stay and die.

Jul. Yon light it not day-light, I know it well;
It is fome meteor that the fun exhales,
To be this night a torch-bearer,
And light thee on thy way to Mantua;
Then stay a while, thou shalt not go so soon.
Rom. Let me be ta'en; let me be put to death,

I am content, if thou wilt have it fo.
I'll fay yon gray is not the morning eye,
'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow,

I'll

I'll fay, 'tis not the Lark whose notes do beat,
The vaulty heav'ns so high above our heads;
Come death and welcome: Juliet wills it fo.
What says my love? let's talk, it is not day.

Jul. It is, it is, hie hence away, be gone;
It is the Lark that fings so out of tune,
Straining harsh discords, and unpleasing sharps.
O now be gone, more light and light it grows.

Rom. More light and light ?---more dark and dark our Farewel, my love: one kiss, and I'll be gone. (wocs.

Jul. Nurse.

Nurse. Your lady mother's coming to your chamber: The day is broke, be wary, look about.

Jul. Art thou gone so? love! lord! ah husband, friend! I must hear from thee ev'ry day in th'hour, For in love's hours there are many days. O by this count I shall be much in years, Ere I again behold my Romeo.

Rom. Farewel: I will omit no opportunity, That may convey my greetings to thee, love. Jul. O think'ft thou we shall ever meet again? Rom, I doubt it not, and all these woes shall serve For sweet discourses, in our time to come.

Jul. O heav'n! I have an ill-divining soul, Methinks I fee thee, now thou'rt parting from me, As one dead in the bottom of a tomb!

Either my eye-fight fails, or thou look'st pale.

Rom. And trust me, love, in mine eye so do you:

Dry forrow drinks our blood. Adieu!

My life, my love, my foul. Adieu ?

[Exeunt.

O fortune, fortune, all men call thee fickle.
If thou art fickle, what doft thou with him

Jul. O

That is renown'd for faith? be fickle, fortune:

Enter Juliet.

For