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meo; nov art thon what thou art, by art as well as Nurse. Now, afore God, I am so' vexed, that every by nature : for this driveling love is like a great na-part about me quivers. Scurvy krave!--Pray you, tural, that runs lolling up and down to hide his sir, a word! and as I told you, my young lady bade bauble in a hole.

me inquire you out; what she bade me say, I will Ben. Stop there, stop there!

keep to myself: but first let me tell ye, if ye should Aler. Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against lead her into a fool's paradise, as they say, it were the hair.

a very gross kind of behaviour, as they say: for Ben. Thou would'st else have made thy tale large. the gentlewoman is young and therefore, if you should Mer. O, thou art deceived, I would have made it deal double with her, truly, it were an ill thing to short: for I was come to the whole depth of my tale. be offered to any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing. and meant, indeed, to occupy the argument no longer. Rom. Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress. Rom. Here's goodly geer!

I protest unto thee, –
Enter Nurse and Peter.

Nurse. Good heart! and, i'faith, I will tell her as
Mer. A sail, a sail, a sail!

much: Lord, Idrá, she will be a joyful woman. Ben. Two, two! a shirt, and a smock!

Ron. What wilt thou tell her, nurse? thou dost Nurse. Peter!

not mark me. Peter. Anon?

Nurse. I will tell her, sir, – that you do protest; Nurse. My fan, Peter!

which, as I take it, is a gentlemanlike ofi'er.
Mer. Pr’ythee, do, good Peter, to hide her face; Rom. Bid her devise some means to come to shrift
for her fan's the fairer of the two.

This afternoon;
Nu God ye good morrow, gentlemen! And there she shall, at friar Laurence' cell,
Aler. God ye good den, fair gentlewoman!

Be shriv'd, and married. Here is for thy pains.
Nurse. Is it good den ?

Nurse. No, truly, sir! not a penny!
Mer. 'Tis no less, I tell you; for the bawdy hand Rom. Go to! I say, you shall !
of the dial is now upon the prick of noon.

Nurse. This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there.
Nurse. Out upon you! what a man are you? Rom. And stay, gooil nurse, behind the abbey-wall:
Rom. One, gentlewoman, that God hath made him- Within this hour my man shall be with thee;
self to mar.

And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair; Nurse. By my troth, it is well said ! -- For himself which to the high top-gallant of my joy to mar, quoth’a? - Gentlemen, can any of you tell Must be my convey in the secret night. me where I may find the young Romeo ?

Farewell! Be trusty, and I'll quit thy pains, Rom. I can tell you; but young Romeo will be Farewell! - Commend me to thy mistress! older when you have found him, than he was when Nurse. Now, God in heaven bless thee! -Hark you sought him: I am the youngest of that name, for 'fault of a worse.

Rom. What say'st thou, my dear nurse?
Nurse. You say well.

Nurse. Is your man secret? Did you ne'er hear say — Mer. Yea, is the worst well ? very well took, i'faith; Two may keep counsel, putting one away? wisely, wisely.

Rom. I warrant thee; my man's as true as steel. Nurse. If you be he, sir, I desire some confidence Nurse. Well, sir! my mistress is the sweetest lady with you.

-Lord, lord! when 'twas a little prating thing, -0, Ben. She will indite him to some supper.

-there's a nobleman in town, one Paris, that would Mer. A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! So ho !

fain lay knile aboard; but she, good soul, had as Rom. What hast thou found ?

lieve see a toad, a very toad, as see him. Ianger her Mler. No hare, sir! unless a hare, sir, in a lenten sometimes, and tell her that Paris is the properer pie, that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent. man; but, I'll warrant yon, when I say so, she looks An old hare hoar,

as pale, as any clout in the varsal world. Doth not And an old hare hoar,

rosemary and Romeo begin both with a letter?

Rom. Ay, nurse; what of that? both with an P.
Is very good meat in lent:
But a hare that is hoar,

Nurse. Ah, mocker! that's the dog's name. R. is
Is too much for a score,

for the dog. No; I know it begins with some other When it hoars ere it be spent.

letter: and she hath the prettiest sententious of it,

and rosemary, that it would do you good to Romeo, will you come to your father's? we'll to hear it. dinner thither.

Rom. Commend me to thy lady!

[Exit. Rom. I will follow you.

Nurse. Ay, a thousand times ! - Peter! Mer. Farewell, ancient lady! farewell, lady, lady, Pet. Anon? lady!

[Eseunt Mercutio and Benvolio. Nurse. Peter, take my fan, and go before! (Exeunt. Nurse. Marry, farewell ! – I pray you, sir, what saucy merchant was this, that was so full of his ropery:

SCENE V.- Capulet's garden. Rom. A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear him

Enter JULIET. self talk ; and will speak more in a minute, than he Jul. The clock struck nine, when I did send the will stand to in a month.

nurse; Nurse. An ’a speak any thing against me, I'll take In half an hour she promis'd to return. him down an 'a were lustier, than he is, and twenty Perchance, she cannot meet him : that's not so. — such Jacks; and, if I cannot, I'll find those that 0, she is lame! love’s heralds should be thoughts, shall. Scurry knave! I am none of his flirt-gills; ! Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams, am none of his skains-mates. And thou must stand Driving back shadows over low'ring hills: by too, and suffer every koave to use at his plea- Therefore do nimble-piuion'd doves draw love, sure?

And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings. Pet. I saw no man use you at his pleasure; if I Now is the sun upon the highmost hill had, my weapon should quickly have been out, I of this day's journey; and from nine till twelve warrant you! I dare draw as soon as another man, if I Is three long hours, -- vet she is not come. sce occasion in a good quarrel, and the law on my side. Had she affections, and warm youthful blood,


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She'd be as swift in motion, as a ball;

Jul. Hie to high fortune!- honest nurse, farewell

! My words would bandy her to my sweet love,

(Exeunt. And his to me:

SCENE VI. - Friar Laurence's celi. But old folks, many feigo as they were dead;

Enter Friar Laurence and Romeo. Unwieldy, show, heavy and pale as lead.

Fri. So smile the heavens upon this holy act,

That after-hours with sorrow chide us not!
Enter Nurse and Peter.

Rom. Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can,
O God, she comes! O honey nurse, what news ?
Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away!

It cannot countervail the exchange of joy,

That one short minute gives me in her sight: Nurse. Peter, stay at the gate! [Exit Peter. Do thou but close our hands with holy words

, Jul. Now, good sweet nurse, O lord! why look'st Then love-devouring death do what he dare, thou sad?

It is enough I may but call her mine. Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily; Fri. These violent delights have violent ends, If good, thou sham'st the music of sweet uews And in their triumph die; like fire and powder

, By playing it to me with so sour a face,

Which, as they kiss, consume. The sweetest honey
Nurse. I am aweary, give me leave a while; - Is loathsome in his own deliciousness,
Fye, how my bones ache! what a jaunt have I had! And in the taste confounds the appetite:

Jul. I would, thon hadst my bones, and I thy news: Therefore, love moderately; long love doth so;
Nay, come, I pray thee, speak! - good, good nurse, Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.

1 speak!

Enter Juliet.
Nurse. Jesu, what haste? can you not stay a while? Here comes the lady!- 0, so light a foot
Do you not see, that I am ou of breath?

Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint: Jul. How art thou out of breath, when thou hast A lover may bestride the gossomers, breath

That idle in the wanton summer air,
To say to me --that thou art out of breath? And yet not fall; so light is vanity.
The excuse, that thou dost make in this delay, Jul. Good even to my ghostly confessor.
Is longer, than the tale thou dost excuse.

Fri. Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for as both

. Is thy news good or bad? answer to that;

Jul. As much to him, else are his thanks too much. Say either, and I'll stay the circumstance:

Rom. Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy jog Let me be satisfied, is't good or bad ?

Be heap'd like mine, and that thy skill be more Nurse. Well, you have made a simple choice; you To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath know not how to choose a man: Romeo! no, not This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue he; though his face he better, than any man's, yet Unfold the imagin’d happiness, that both his leg excels all men's; and for a hand, and a foot, Pieceive in either by this dear encounter. and a body, — though they be not to be talked on, Jul. Conceit, more rich in matter, than in words, yet they are past compare. He is not the hower of Brags of his substance, not of ornament: courtesy, but, l'II warrant him, as gentle as a They are but beggars, that can count their worthi lamb. — Go thy ways, wench! serve God! What, But my true love is grown to such excess, have you dineil at home?

I cannot sum up half my sum of wealth. Jul. No, no! But all this did I know before :

Fri. Come, come with me, and we will make short What says he of our marriage? what of that?

Nurse. Lord, how my head aches! what a head For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone,
have I!

Till holý church incorporate two in one! (Exezh.
It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces.
My back o' t’other side, -0, my back, my back! -
Beshrew your heart, for sending me about,

А ст III.
To catch my death with jaunting up and down!

SCENE I. - A public place.
Jul. I'faith, I am sorry that thou art not weil: Enter Mercutio, Benvolio, Puge, and Sersale
Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love? Ben. I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire!
Nurse. Your love says like an honest gentleman, The day is hot, the Capulets abroad,
And a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, And, if we meet, we shall not 'scape a brawl;
And, I warrant, a virtuons. Where is your mother? For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring
Jul. Where is my mother ? – why, she is within; Mer. Thou art like one of those fellows, that, aber
Where should she be? How oddly thou reply'st!

he enters the confines of a tavern, claps me his sword Your love says like an honest gentleman.- upon the table, and says: God send me no need of Where is your mother?

thee! and, by the operation of the second copy Nurse. 0, God's Jady dear!

draws it on the drawer, when, indeed, there is av Are you so hot ? Marry, come up, I trow;

need. Is this the poultice for my aching bones?

Ben, Am I like such a fellow?
Henceforward do your messages yourself,

Mer. Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in the
Jul. Here's such a coil; - come, what says Romeo ? mood as any in Italy; and as soon moved to be
Nurse. Have you got leave to go to shrist to-day? moody, and as soon moody to be moved.
Jul. I have.

Ben. And what to?
Nurse. Then hie you hence to friar Laurence' cell, Mer. Nay, an there were two such, we should have
There stays a husband to make you a wife: none shortly, for one would kill the other. Thor!
Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks, why, thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a har
They'll be in scarlet straight at any news. more, or a hair less, in his beard, than thou hast
Hie you to church; I must another way,

Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking pats
To fetch a ladder, by the which your love having no other reason but because thou hast based
Must climb a bird's nest soon, when it is dark: eyes. What eye, but such an eye, would spy
I am the drudge, and toil in your delight;

such a quarrel? Thy head is as full of quarrels, es But you shall bear the burden soon at night.

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hast quarrelled with a man for coughing in the Is he gone, and hath nothing?
street, because he hath wakened thy dog that hath Ben. What, art thou hurt?
lain asleep in the sun. Didst thou pot fall out with Mer. Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch!

marry, 'tis
a tailor, for wearing his new doublet before Easter? enough.
with another, for tying his new shoes with old rib- Where is my page? – Go, villain, fetch a surgeon!
band? and yet thou wilt tutor me from quarrelling!

(Exit Page. Ben. An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any Rom. Courage, man! the hurt cannot be much. man should buy the fee-simple of my life for an Mer. No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide hour and a quarter.

as a church door; but 'tis enough, 'twill serve: ask Mer. The fee-simple? O simple!

for me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave Enter TYBALT, und Others.

man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this world. Ben. By my head, here come the Capulets ! A plague o' both your houses !- 'Zounds, a dog, a Mer. By my heel, I care not!

rat, a mouse, a cat, to scratch a man to death! a Tyb. Follow me close, for I will speak to them. — braggart, a rogue, a villain, that fights by the book Gentlemen, good den : a word with one of you. of arithmetic ! - Why the devil came you between

Mer. And but one word with one of us ? Couple us? I was hurt under your arm.
it with something; make it a word and a blow. Rom. I thought all for the best.

Tyb. You will find me apt enough to that, sir, if Mer. Help me into some house, Benvolio,
you will give me occasion.

Or I shall faint !- A plague o' both your houses! Mer. Could you not take some occasion without | They have made worm's meat of me; giving?

I have it, and soundly too. — Your houses!
Tyb. Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo,

(Ereunt Mercutio and Benvolio. Mer. Consort! what, dost thou make us minstrels? Rom. This gentleman, the prince's nrar ally, an thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt but discords: here's my fiddlestick; here's that In my behalf; my reputation stain'd shall make you dance. 'Zounds, consort!

With Tybalt's slander, Tybalt, that an hour Ben. We talk here in the public haunt of men : Ilath been my kinsmau:-0 sweet Juliet, Either withdraw into some private place,

Thy beauty hath made me efleminate, Or reason coldly of your grievances,

And in my temper soften'd valour's steel. Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on ns.

Re-enter BENTOLIO. Mer. Men's eyes were made to look, and let them Ben. O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead! gaze;

That gallant spirit hath aspir'd the clouds, I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.

Which too untimely here did scorn the earth. Enter ROMEO.

Rom. Tliis day's black fate on more days doth de-
Tyb. Well, peace be with you, sir! here comes my pend;

This but begins the woe, others must end.
Mler. But I'll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery :

Re-enter TYBALT.
Marry, go before to field, lie'll be your

follower; Ben. Here comes the furious Tybalt back again. Your worship, in that sense, may call him— man. Rom. Alive! in triumph! and Mercutio slain!

Tyb. Romeo, the hate I bear thee, can afford Away to heaven, respective lenity,
No better term than this - Thou art a villain ! And fire-ey'd fury be my conduct now!

Rom. Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee, Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again,
El oth Doth much excuse the appertaining rage

That late thou gav'st me; for Mercutio's soul To such a greeting ; - villain am I none;

Is but a little way above our heads, Therefore farewell! I see, thou know'st me not. Staying for thine to keep him company; Tyb. Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries Either thou, or ), or both, must go w

with him! That thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw !f Tyb. Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him Rom. I do protest, I never injur'd thee;

But love thee better, than thou canst devise, Shalt with him hence !
Till thou shalt know the reason of my love: Kom. This shall determine that!
And so, good Capulet, — which name I tender

[They fight; Tybalt falls. As dearly as mine own, - be satisfied.

Ben. Romeo, away, be gone!
Mer. O calm, dishonourable, vile submission! The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain ! -
A la stoccata carries it away.

[Draws. Stand not amaz'd: the prince will doom thee Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk ?

death, Tyb. What would'st thou have with me? If thou art taken :- hence !- begone!-away! Mer. Good king of cats, pothing, but one of your Rom. 0! I am fortune's fool! nine lives; that I mean to make bold withal, and, Ben. Why dost thou stay? (Exit Romeo. as you shall use me hereafter, dry-beat the rest of

Enter Citizens, etc. the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his 1 Cit. Which way run he, that kill'd Mercutio ? pilcher by the ears ? make haste, lest mine be about Tybalt, that marderer, which way ran 'he? your ears ere it be out.

Ben. There lies that Tybalt.
Tyb. I am for you!

(Drawing. 1 Cit. Up, sir, go with!
Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up! I charge thee in the prince's name, ohey!
Mer. Come, sir, your passado! (They fight. Enter Prince, attended; MONTAGUE, CAPULET, their
Rom. Draw, Benvolio!

Wives, and Others.
Beat down their weapons! - Gentlemen, for shame, Prin. Where are the vile beginners of this fray?
Forbear this outrage; — Tybalt — Mercutio - Ben, O noble prince, I can discover all
The prince expressly hath forbid this bandying The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl:
In Verona streets !-hold, Tybalt !-good Mercutio ! There lies the man, slain by young Romeo,

(Exeunt Tybalt and his Partizans. That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio. Mer. I am hart;

Lu. Cap. Tybalt, my cousin! - O my brother's A plague o' both the houses ! - I am sped !



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Unhappy sight! ah me, the blood is spill'd Hood my unmann'd blood, bating in my cheeks,
Of my dear kinsman! Prince, as thou art true, With thy black mantle; till strange love, grown bold,
For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague.- Think true love acted, simple modesty.
O cousin, cousin!

Come, night! Come, Romeo! come, thou day in
Prin. Benvolio, who began this bloody fray? night!
Ben. Tybalt, here slain, whom Komeo's hand did for thou wilt lie upon the wings of night

Whiter than new snow on a raven's back. -
Romeo, that spoke him fair, bade him bethink Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-brow'd night,
How nice the quarrel was, and urg'd withal Give me my Romeo: and, when he shall die,
Your high displeasure: - all this-uttered

Take him, and cut him out in little stars, With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly And he will make the face of heaven so fine, bow'd,

That all the world will be in love with night, Could not take truce with the unruly spleen And pay no worship to the garish son. of Tybalt, deaf to peace, but that he tilts

0, I have bought the mansion of a love,
With piercing steel at bold Mercatio's breast; But not possess'd it; and though I am sold,
Who, all as hot turns deadly point to point, Not yet enjoy'di so tedious is this day,
And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats As is the night before some festival
Cold death aside, and with the other sends To an impatient child, that hath new robes,
It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity


may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse, Retorts it. Romeo he cries aloud,

Enter Nurse, with cords. Hold, friends! friends, part! and, swifter, than his And she brings news : and every tongae that speaks tongue,

But Romeo's name, speaks heavenly eloquence. -. His agile arm beats down their fatal points, Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there? the And 'twixt them rushes; underneath whose arm

cords, An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life That Romeo bade thee fetch? Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled:

Nurse. Ay, ay, the cords!

[Throws them down But by and by comes back to Romeo,

Jul. Ah me! what news? why dost thou wring thy
Who had but newly entertain'd revenge,

And to't they go like lightning: for, ere I Nurse. Ah well-a-day! he's dead, he's dead, he's dead!
Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain; We are uudone, lady, we are undone!
And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly:

Alack the day! - he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead !
This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.

Jul. Can heaven be so envious ?
La. Cap. He is a kinsman to the Montague, Nurse. Romeo can,
Affection makes him false, he speaks not true: Though heaven cannot:

O Romeo! Romeo!
Some twenty of them fought in his black strife,

Who ever would have thought it? — Romeo! And all those twenty could but kill one life: Jul. What devil art thou, that dost torment me I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give;

thus? Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live.

This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell

. Prin. Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio; Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but I, Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe? And that bare vowel I shall poison more,

Mon. Not Romeo, prince, he was Mercatio's friend ; Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice:
His fault concludes but, what the law should end, I am not I, if there be such an I;
The life of Tybalt.

Or those eyes shut, that make thee answer, 1.
Prin. And, for that offence,

If he be slain, say -- I; or if pot, no:
Immediately we do exile him hence:

Brief sounds determine of my weal, or woe.
I have an interest in your hates' proceeding, Nurse. I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes, a
My blood, for your rude brawls, doth lie a bleed- God save the mark!- here on his manly breast:

A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse;
But I'll amerce you with so strong a fine,

Pale, pale as ashes, all bedawb'd in blood,
That you shall all repent the loss of mine: All in gore blood ; - I swoonded at the sight.
I will be deaf to pleading and excuses;

Jul. • break, my heart! – poor bankrupt bread
Nor tears, nor prayers, shall purchase out abuses, at once!
Therefore use none: let Romeo hence in haste, To prison, eyes! ne'er look on liberty!
Else, when he's found, that hour is his last.

Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here;
Bear hence this body, and attend our will: And thou, and Romeo, press one heavy bier!
Mercy but murders, pardoning these that kill.

Nurse. O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had!
[Exeunt. O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman!

That ever I should live to see thee dead!
SCENE II. - A room in Capulet's house. Jul. What storm is this, that blows so contrary?

Is Romeo slaughter’d; and is Tybalt dead?
Jul. Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, My dear-lov'd cousin, and my dearer lord?
Towards Phoebus' mansion ; such a waggoner

Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doos! As Phaeton would whip you to the west,

For who is living, if those two are gone? And bring in cloudy night immediately. –

Nurse. Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished; Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night! Romeo that kill'd him, he is banished.

Jul. () God! That run-away's eyes may wink; and Romeo

did Romeo's hand shed Tybal's Leap the these arms, untalk'd of, and unseen!

blood ? Lovers can see to do their amorous rites

Nurse. It did, it did! alas the day! it did!
By their own beauties: or, if love be blind,

Jul. O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face!
It best agrees with night. -- Come, civil night, Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?
Thou sober-suited matron, all in black,

Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical !
And learn me how to lose a winding mateh, Dove-feather'd raven! wollfish-ravening lamb!
Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods:

Despised substance of divinest slow!

My husband
And Tobali'
All this is
Some word
That murde
But, 0! it
Like damn

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Hath slain
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Or, --if sou
And needly
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Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st, Affliction is enamopr'd of thy parts,
A damned saint, an honourable villain ! -

And thou art wedded to calamity.
0, nature! what hadst thou to do in hell,

Rom. Father, what news? what is the prince's When thou did'st bower the spirit of a fiend

In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh?

What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand,
Was ever book, containing such vile matter, That I yet know not?
So fairly bound? O, that deceit should dwell Fri. Too familiar
In such a gorgeous palace!

Is my dear son with such sour company:
Nurse. There's no trust,

I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom.
No faith, no honesty in men; all perjur’d,

Rom. What less than dooms-day is the prince's
All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.

doom? Ah, where's my man? give me some aqua vitae :- Fri. A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips, These griefs, these


these sorrows make me old. Not body's death, but body's banishment.. Shame come to Romeo !

Rom. Ha ! banishment? bě merciful, say - death!
Jul. Blister'd be thy tongue,

For exile hath more terror in his look,
For such a wish! he was not born to shame: Much more than death: do not say — banishment.
Upon his brow shame is asham'd to sit;

Fri. Hence from Verona art thoa banished:
For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.
Sole monarch of the universal earth.

Rom. There is no world without Verona walls,
O, what a beast was I to chide at him!

But purgatory, torture, hell itself.
Nurse. Will you speak well of him that kill?d Hence-banished is banish'd from the world,

And world's exile is death:— then banishment
Jul. Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband? Is death mis-term’d: calling death – banishment,
Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name, Thou cut'st my head off with a golden axe,
When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it ? And smil'st upon the stroke that murders me.
But, wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin ? Fri. O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness!
That villain cousin would have kill'd my husband: Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind prince,
Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring! Taking thy part, hath rush'd aside the law,
Your tributary drops belong to woe,

And turn'd that black word death to banishment:
Which you, mistaking, ofler up to joy:

This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not.
My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain; Rom. 'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here,
And Tybalt’s dead, that would have slain my husband: Where Juliet lives; and every cat, and dog,
All this is comfort. Wherefore weep I then? And little mouse, every unworthy thing,
Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death, Live here in heaven, and may look on her,
That murder'd me: I would forget it fain; But Romeo may not.

More validity,
But, 0! it presses to my memory,

More honourable state, more courtship lives
Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds : In carrion flies, than Romeo : they may seize
Tybalt is dead, and Romeo - banished;

On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand,
That- banished, that one word banished, And steal immortal blessing from her lips;
Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death Who, even in pure and vestal modesty,
Was woe enough, if it had ended there:

Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin;
Or, - if sour woe delights in fellowship,

But Romeo may not; he is banished:
And needly will be rank'd with other griefs, Flies may do this, when I from this must fly:
Why follow'd not, when she said - Tybalt's dead, They are free men, but I am banished.
Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both,

And say'st thou yet, that exile is not death?
Which modern lamentation might have mov'd ? Hadst thou no poison mix’d, no sharp-ground knife,
But, with a rear-ward following Tybalt's death, No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean,
Romeo is banished, - to speak that word,

But banished - to kill me; banished ?
Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,

O friar, the damned use that word in hell!
All slain, all dead. Romeo is banished, Howlings attend it! How hast thou the heart,
There is no end, no limit, measure, bound,

Being a divine, a ghostly confessor,
In that word's death; no words can that woe sound!- A sin-absolver, and my friend profess’d,
Where is my father, and my mother, nurse? To mangle me with that word — banishment ?
Nurse. Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corse : Fri. Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak a word!
Will you go to them? I will bring you thither. Rom. O, thou will speak again of banishment!
Jul. Wash they his wounds with tears? mine shall Fri. I'll give thee armour to keep off that word;

Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy,
When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment. To comfort thee, though thou art banished.

up those cords ! - Poor ropes, you are beguild, Rom. Yet banished ? -- hang up philosophy!
you and I; for Romeo is exil'd;

Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,
He made you for a highway to my bed:

Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom;
But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed.

It helps not, it prevails not, talk no more!
Come, cords! come, nurse! I'll to my wedding bed! Fri. O, then I see, that madmen have no ears.
And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead! Rom. How should they, when that wise men have
Nurse. Hie to your chamber, I'll find Romeo

no eyes?
To comfort you! - I wot well where he is.

Fri. Let me dispute with thee of thy estate.
Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night; Rom. Thou canst not speak of what thou dost not
I'll to him; he is hid at Laurence' cell.

feel :
Jul, o find him! give this ring to my true knight, Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
And bid him come to take his last farewell. (Exeunt. An hour bat married, Tybalt murdered,
SCENE III. - Friar LAUREnce's cell.

Doting like me, and like me banished,
Enter Friar Laurence and Romeo.

Then might'st thou speak, then might'st thou tear
Fri.Romeo,come forth! come forth, thou fearful man!

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