Rom. There is no world without Verona But purgatory, torture, hell itself, [walls, Hence-banished is banish'd from the world, And world's exile is death :-then banishment Is death mis-term'd: calling death-banishment,

Thou cut'st my head off with a golden axe, And smilest upon the stroke that murders me. Fri. O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness! Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind prince,

Taking thy part, hath rush'd aside the law, And turn'd that black word death to banishment:

This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not.

Rom. 'lis torture, and not mercy: heaven

is here,

Where Juliet lives; and every cat, and dog,
And little mouse, every unworthy thing,
Live here in heaven, and may look on her,
But Romeo may not.-More validity *,
More honourable state, more courtship lives
In carrion flies, than Romeo: they may seize
On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand,
And steal immortal blessing from her lips;
Who, even in pure and vestal modesty,
Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin.
But Romeo may not; be is banished:
Flies may do this, when I from this must fly;
They are free men, but I am banished.
And say'st thou yet, that exile is not death?
Hadst thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground
knife,

[mean,

No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so
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 sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd,
To mangle me with that word-banishment?
Fri. Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak
[ment.
Rom. O, thou wilt speak again of banish-
Fri. I'll give thee armour to keep off that
word;

a word.

Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy,
To comfort thee, though 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 madmen have no ears.
Rom. How should they, when that wise
men have no eyes?

Fri. Let me dispute with thee of thy estate. Rom. Thou canst not speak of what thou dost not feel:

Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
An hour but married, Tybalt 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.
Fri. Arise; one knocks; good Romeo, hide
thyself.
[Knocking within.

bering :

Stand up, stand up; staud, an you be a man: For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand; Why should you fall into so deep an O? Rom. Nurse!

Nurse. Ah sir! ah sir!—Well, death's the

end of all. [her? Rom. Spakest thou of Juliet? how is it with Doth she not think me an old murderer, Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy With blood reinoved but little from her own? Where is she? and how doth she? and what My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love? [says Nurse. O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps

and weeps;

And now falls on her bed; and then starts up, And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries, And then down falls again.

Rom. As if that name, Shot from the deadly level of a gun, Did murder her; as that name's cursed hand Murder'd her kinsman.-O tell me, friar, tell In what vile part of this anatomy [me, Doth my name lodge? tell me, that I may sack The hateful mansion. [Drawing his Sword. Fri. Hold thy desperate hand: Art thou a man? thy form cries out, thou art; Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denote The unreasonable fury of a beast: Unseemly woman, in a seeming man! Or ill-beseeming beast, in seeming both! Thou hast amazed me by my holy order, I thought thy disposition better temper❜d. Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself? And slay thy lady too that lives in thee, By doing damned hate upon thyself? Why rail'st thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth?

Since birth, and heaven, and earth, all three do meet

lose.

In thee at once; which thou at once wouldst
[thy wit;
Fie, fie! thou sham'st thy shape, thy love,
Which, like an usurer, abound'st in all,
And usest none in that true use indeed
Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy
Thy noble shape is but a form of wax, [wit.
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,
Mis-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 de-
fence *

too:

What, rouse thee, man! thy Juliet is alive,
For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead;
There art thou happy: Tybalt would kill thee,
But thou slew'st Tybalt; there art thou happy
[friend,
The law, that threaten'd death, becomes thy
And turns it to exile; there art thou happy:
A pack of blessings lights upon thy back;
Happiness courts thee in her best array;
But like a misbehaved 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 the 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 hasten all the house to bed,
Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto:
Romeo is coming.
[the night,
Nurse. O Lord, I could have staid here all
To hear good counsel: O, what learning is !—|
My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come.

Rom. Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to
chide.
[you, sir:

Nurse. Here, sir, a ring she bid me give Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late. [Exit Nurse. Rom. How well my comfort is revived by this! [all your state t; Fri. Go hence: Good night; and here stands Either begone before the watch be set, Or by the break of day disguised from hence: Sojourn in Mantua; I'll find out your man, And he shall signify from time to time Every good hap to you, that chances here: Give me thy hand; 'tis late: farewell; good night.

[me, Rom. But that a joy past joy calls out on It were a grief, so brief to part with thee: Farewell.

[Exeunt.

Torn to pieces with thine own weapons. * Shut up.

Cap. Things have fallen out, sir, so unluckily, That we have had no time to move our daughter: [ly,

Look you, she loved her kinsman Tybalt dearAnd so did I;-Well, we were born to die.'Tis very late, she'll not come down to-night: I promise you, but for your company, I would have been a-bed an hour ago. [woo: Par. These times of woe afford no time to Madam, good night: commend me to your daughter. [to-morrow;

La. Cap. I will, and know her mind early To-night she's mew'd up to her heaviness. Cap. Sir Paris, I will make a desperate

tender

Of my child's love: I think, she will be ruled
In all respects by me; nay more, I doubt it not.
Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed;
Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love;
And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday
But soft; What day is this?
[next-
Par.
Monday, my lord.
Cap. Monday? ha! ha! Well, Wednesday is
too soon,

O' Thursday let it be;-c' Thursday, tell her,
She shall be married to this noble earl:-
Will you be ready? do you like this haste?
We'll keep no great ado;-a friend, or two:-
For hark you, Tybalt being slain so late,
It may be thought we held him carelessly,
Being our kinsman, if we revel much:
Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends,
And there an end. But what say you to Thurs
day?
[to-morrow.

Par. My lord, I would that Thursday were
Cap. Well, get you gone :-O' Thursday be
Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed, [it then:
Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day.-
Farewell, my lord.-Light to my chamber, hof
Afore me, it is so very late, that we
May call it early by and by:-Good night.
[Exeunt.

SCENE V.

Juliet's Chamber.

Enter ROMEO and JULIET.

Jul. Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near It was the nightingale, and not the lark [day: That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear; Nightly she sings on yon 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 is not day-light, I know it, I:
It is some meteor that the sun exhales,
To be to thee this night a torch-bearer,
And light thee on thy way to Mantua:

+ The whole of your fortune depends on
Bold.
403

Therefore stay yet, thou need'st not to be gone. I
Rom. Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death;
I am content, so thou wilt have it so.
I'll say, yon grey is not the morning's eye,
'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow⚫;
Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat
The vaulty heaven so high above our heads:
I have more care to stay, than will to go;-
Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so.-
How is't, my soul? let's talk, it is not day.

Jul. It is, it is, hie hence, be gone, away; It is the lark that sings so out of tune, Straining harsh discords, and unpleasing sharps Some say, the lark makes sweet division; This doth not so, for she divideth us: [eyes: Some say, the lark and loathed toad change O, now I would they had changed voices too! Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray, Hunting thee hence with hunts-up to the day. U, now begone; more light and light it grows. Rom. More light and light?-more dark and dark our woes.

Enter Nurse.

Nurse. Madain! Jul. Nurse?

Nurse. Your lady mother's coming to your chamber:

The day is broke; be wary, look about.
[Exit Nurse.
Jul. Then, window, let day in, and let life out.
Rom. Farewell, farewell! one kiss, and I'll
descend.
[ROMEO descends.
Jul. Art thou gone so? my love! my lord!
my friend!

I must hear from thee every day i' the hour,
For in a minute there are many days:
O! by this count I shall be much in years,
Ere I again behold my Romeo.

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

Jul. O God! I have an ill-divining soul: Methinks, I see thee, now thou art below, As one dead in the bottom of a tomb: Either my eye-sight fails, or thou look'st pale. Rom. And trust me, love, in my eye so do

If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him
That is renown'd for faith? Be fickle, fortune;
For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long.
But send him back.
[up?
La. Cap. [Within.] Ho, daughter! are you
Jul. Who is't that calls? is it my lady mo-
Is she not down so late, or up so early? [ther?
What unaccustom'd cause procures || her hither?
Enter Lady CAPULET.

La. Cap. Why, how now, Juliet?

• Reflection of the moon. for musical composition.

Jul.

sin's death?

Madam, I am not well. La. Cap. Evermore weeping for your cou[tears? What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with An if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live; [of love: Therefore, have done: Some griefshows much But much of grief shows still some want of wit. Jul. Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss. La. Cap. So shall you feel the loss, but not Which you weep for. [the friend

Feeling so the loss,

Jul. I cannot choose but ever weep the friend. La. Cap. Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death,

As that the villain lives which slaughtered him. Jul. What villain, madam?

La. Cup. That same villain, Romeo. Jul. Villain and he are many miles asunder. God pardon him! I do, with all my heart; And yet no man, like he, doth grieve my heart. La. Cap. That is, because the traitor mur

derer lives.

death!

[hands. Jul. Ay, madam, from the reach of these my 'Would, none but I might venge my cousin's [thou not: La. Cup. We will have vengeance for it, fear Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua,

Where that same banish'd runagate doth live,— That shall bestow on him so sure a draught,' That he shall soon keep Tybalt company: And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied.

Jul. Indeed, I never shall be satisfied With Romeo, till I behold him-deadIs my poor heart so for a kinsman ver'd:Madam, if you could find out but a man To bear a poison, I would temper it; That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof, Soon sleep in quiet.-0, how my heart abhors To hear him named, and cannot come to him,

To wreak the love I bore my cousin Tybalt Upon his body that hath slaughter'd him!

La. Cap. Find thou the means, and I'll find

such a man.

But, now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl. [time: Jul. And joy comes well in such a needful What are they, I beseech your ladyship?

La. Cup. Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child;

One, who to put thee from thy heaviness,
Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy,
That thou expect'st not, nor I look'd not for.
Jul. Madam, in happy time, what day is
[day morn,

that?
La. Cap. Marry, my child, early next Thurs
The gallant, young, and noble gentleman,
The county Paris, at Saint Peter's church,
Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride.
Jul. Now, by Saint Peter's church, and

Peter too,

Brings.

Ere he, that should be husband, comes to woo. 1 pray you, tell my lord and father, madam, I will not marry yet; and, when I do, I swear, It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate, Rather than Paris;-These are news indeed! La. Cap. Here comes your father; tell him so yourself.

And see how he will take it at your hands.
Enter CAPULET and Nurse.

Cap. When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle But for the sunset of my brother's son, [dew; It rains downright.

How now? a conduit, girl? what, still in tears? Ever more showering? In one little body Thou counterfeit'st a bark, a sea, a wind: For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea, Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is,

Sailing in this salt flood; the winds, thy sighs; Who,-raging with thy tears, and they with Without a sudden calm, will overset [them,Thy tempest tossed body.-How now, wife? Have you delivered to her our decree?

La. Cap. Ay, sir; but she will none, she gives you thanks.

I would the fool were married to her grave!
Cup. Soft, take me with you, take me with
yon, wife.
[thanks?
How! will she none? doth she not give us
Is she not proud? doth she not count her
bless'd,

Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought
So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom!
Jul. Not proud, you have; but thankful,
that you have:

Proud can I never be of what I hate;
But thankful even for hate, that is meant love.
Cap. How now! how now, chop-logick!
What is this?
[not;
Proud,-aud, I thank you,-and, I thank you
And yet not proud;-Mistress minion, you
Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no
prouds,
[next,
But settle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday
To go with Paris to Saint Peter's church,
Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither.
Ont, you green-sickness carrion! out, you
You tallow face!
[baggage!
La. Cap. Fie, fie! what are you mad?
Jul.Good father, I beseech you on my knees,
Hear me with patience but to speak a word.
Cap. Hang thee, young baggage; disobedient
wretch !
[day,

I tell thee what,-get thee to church o'Thurs-
Or never after look me in the face:
Speak not, reply not, do not answer me :
My fingers itch.-Wife, we scarce thought us
bless'd,

That God had sent us but this only child;
But now I see this one is one too much,
And that we have a curse in having her :
Out on her, hilding * !
Nurse.
God in heaven bless her!-
You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so.
Cap. And why, my lady wisdom? hold
your tongue,

Good prudence; smatter with your gossips,
Nurse. I speak no treason.

Cap.
O, God ye good den!
Nurse. May not one speak?

[go.

Cup. Peace, you mumbling fool! Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl, For here we need it not. La. Cap.

You are too hot. Cap. God's bread! it makes me mad: Day, night, late, early,

At home, abroad, alone, in company,
Waking, or sleeping, still my care hath been
To have her match'd: and having now pro-
vided

A gentleman of princely parentage,
Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd,
Stuff'd (as they say,) with honourable parts,
Proportion'd as one's heart could wish a man,
And then to have a wretched puling fool,
A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender,
To answer-I'll not wed,—I cannot love,
I am too young,-I pray you, pardon me ;
But, an you will not wed, I'll pardon you:
Graze where you will, you shall not house
with me;

Look to't, think on't, I do not use to jest.
Thursday is near; lay hand on heart, advise:
An you be mine, I'll give you to my friend;
An you be not, hang, beg, starve, die i'ihe

Jul. Is there no pity sitting in the clouds, That sees into the bottom of my grief? O, sweet my mother, cast me not away? Delay this marriage for a month, a week; Or, if you do not, make the bridal bed In that dim monument where Tybalt lies. La. Cap. Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word;

Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee. [Exit.

Jul. O God!-0 nurse! how shail this be

prevented?

My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven;
How shall that faith return again to earth,
Unless that husband send it me from heaven.
By leaving earth ?-comfort me, counsel me.-
Alack, alack, that heaven should practise stra-
Upon so soft a subject as myself! [tagems
What say'st thou ? hast thou not a word of joy?
Some comfort, nurse.
Nurse.

'Faith, here 'tis : Romeo Is banish'd; and all the world to nothing, That be dares ne'er come back to challenge

you;