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Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here;
Jul. What storm is this, that blows so contrary?
Nurse. Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished;
Jul. O heaven! did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood?
Jul. O serpent heart, hid with a flow'ring face!
Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?
O, that deceit should dwell
In such a gorgeous palace!
No faith, no honesty in men; all perjur'd.
There's no trust,
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 'tis a throne where honor may be crown'd
O, what a wretch was I to chide at him!
Nurse. Will you speak well of him that kill'd your cousin?
Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name,
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,
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.
Nurse. Hie to your chamber: I'll find Romeo
To comfort you: I wot well where he is.
Jul. O find him! give this ring to my true knight,
SCENE III.-Friar Laurence's Cell.
Enter Friar LAURENCE, and ROMEO.
Fri. Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man: Affliction is enamor'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 doomsday is the prince's doom?
Rom. Ha! banishment? be merciful, say-death:
For exile hath more terror in his look,
Fri. O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness!
Rom. 'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here
Oh Father! 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 a word.
To comfort thee, though thou art banished.
Rom. Yet banished?-Hang up philosophy!
Unless philosophy can make a Juliet.
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,
Then might'st thou speak, then might'st thou tear thy hair
Fri. 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.
Fri. Hark, how they knock !-Who's there?-Romeo, arise; Thou wilt be taken :-Stay awhile :-stand up; What wilfulness is this ?-I come, I come.
Who knocks so hard? whence come you? what's your will.
Nurse. [Within.] Let me come in, and you shall know my er
"I come from my lady Juliet.
Nurse. O holy friar; O, tell me, holy friar,
Where is my lady's lord, where's Romeo?
Fri. There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk.
Just in her case!
Stand up, stand up; stand, an you be a man:
For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise.
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
Where is she? how doth she? and what says she?
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.
As if that name,
Shot from the deadly level of a gun,
Did murder her; as that name's cursed hand
Doth my name lodge? tell me, that I may sack
Thou hast amaz'd me: by my holy order,
[Draws his sword.
I thought thy disposition better temper'd.
Nurse. O, I could have staid here all the night,
Rom. Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide. Nurse. Here, sir, a ring she bid me give you, sir: you, make haste, for it grows very late.
Rom. How well my comfort is reviv'd by this!
Fri. Go hence: Good night; and here stands all your state;
Either begone 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; good night.
It were a grief, so brief to part with thee:
SCENE V.-Juliet's Chamber.
Enter ROMEO, and JULIET.
Jul. Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day:
Rom. It was the lark, the herald of the morn,
It is some meteor that the sun exhales,
Jul. It is, it is, hie hence, be gone, away;.
Straining harsh discords, and unpleasing sharps.
Rom. More light and light ?-more dark and dark our woes.
Nurse. Your lady mother's coming to your chamber. [Ex. Nurse. Rom. Farewell, farewell! one kiss, and I'll descend.
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. Ó, think'st thou, we shall ever meet again?
Rom. I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve
Jul. O Heaven! I have an ill-divining soul;
Jul. O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle: