The Same. FRIAR LAURENCE'S Cell. |
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Enter FRIAR LAURENCE. |
Fri. L. Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man: |
Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts, |
And thou art wedded to calamity. |
|
Enter ROMEO. |
Rom. Father, what news? what is the prince's doom? |
What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand, |
That I yet know not? |
Fri. L. Too familiar |
Is my dear son with such sour company: |
I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom. |
Rom. What less than doomsday is the prince's doom? |
Fri. L. 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.' |
Fri. L. Hence from Verona art thou banished. |
Be patient, for the world is broad and wide. |
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 'banished,' |
Thou cutt'st my head off with a golden axe, |
And smil'st upon the stroke that murders me. |
Fri. L. 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. 'Tis 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; |
Flies may do this, but I from this must fly: |
They are free men, but I am banished. |
And sayst thou yet that exile is not death? |
Hadst thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground knife, |
No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean, |
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 'banished?' |
Fri. L. Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak a word. |
Rom. O! thou wilt speak again of banishment. |
Fri. L. I'll give thee armour to keep off that 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. L. O! then I see that madmen have no ears. |
Rom. How should they, when that wise men have no eyes? |
Fri. L. Let me dispute with thee of thy estate. |
Rom. Thou canst not speak of that 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 mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair, |
And fall upon the ground, as I do now, |
Taking the measure of an unmade grave. [Knocking within. |
Fri. L. Arise; one knocks: good Romeo, hide thyself. |
Rom. Not I; unless the breath of heart-sick groans, |
Mist-like, infold me from the search of eyes. [Knocking. |
Fri. L. Hark! how they knock. Who's there? Romeo arise; |
Thou wilt be taken. Stay awhile! Stand up; [Knocking. |
Run to my study. By and by! God's will! |
What wilfulness is this! I come, I come! [Knocking. |
Who knocks so 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. |
Fri. L. Welcome, then. |
|
Enter Nurse. |
Nurse. O holy friar! O! tell me, holy friar, |
Where is my lady's lord? where's Romeo? |
Fri. L. There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk. |
Nurse. O! he is even in my mistress' case, |
Just in her case! |
Fri. L. O woeful sympathy! |
Piteous predicament! Even so lies she, |
Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering. |
Stand up, stand up; stand, 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. |
Rom. Spak'st thou of Juliet? how is it with her? |
Doth she not think me an old murderer, |
Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy |
With blood remov'd but little from her own? |
Where is she? and how doth she? and what says |
My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love? |
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 me, |
In what vile part of this anatomy |
Doth my name lodge? tell me, that I may sack |
The hateful mansion. [Drawing his sword. |
Fri. L. 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 amaz'd me: by my holy order, |
I thought thy disposition better temper'd. |
Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself? |
And slay thy lady that in thy life lives, |
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 |
In thee at once, which thou at once wouldst lose. |
Fie, fie! thou sham'st thy shape, thy love, thy wit, |
Which, like a usurer, abound'st in all, |
And usest none in that true use indeed |
Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit. |
Thy noble shape is but a form of wax, |
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, |
Misshapen in the conduct of them both, |
Like powder in a skilless soldier's flask, |
To set a-fire by thine own ignorance, |
And thou dismember'd with thine own defence. |
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 too: |
The law that threaten'd death becomes thy friend, |
And turns it to exile; there art thou happy: |
A pack of blessings light upon thy back; |
Happiness courts thee in her best array; |
But, like a misbehav'd 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. |
Nurse. O Lord! I could have stay'd here all the night |
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. |
Nurse. Here, sir, a ring she bid me give you, sir. |
Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late. [Exit. |
Rom. How well my comfort is reviv'd by this! |
Fri. L. Go hence; good-night; and here stands all your state: |
Either be gone before the watch be set, |
Or by the break of day disguis'd 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; goodnight. |
Rom. But that a joy past joy calls out on me, |
It were a grief so brief to part with thee: |
Farewell. [Exeunt. |
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