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. Rom. O, thou wilt speak again of banishment. Fri. 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! 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, 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. Rom. Not I; unless the breath of heart-sick groans, Mist-like, infold me from the search of eyes. [Knocking. Fri. Hark, how they knock!-Who's there? Romeo, arise; Thou wilt be taken :-Stay a while:-stand up; [Knocking. [Knocking. Run to my study :-By and by:-God's will! 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. Welcome then. Enter Nurse. 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. Nurse, O, he is even in my mistress' case, 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 Where is she? and how doth she? and what 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, Rom. 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 Fri. [Drawing his sword. Hold thy desperate hand: Art thou a man? thy form cries out, thou art; I thought thy disposition better temper'd. Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself? 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 would'st lose. Fie, fie! thou sham'st thy shape, thy love, thy wit; Which, like an usurer, abound'st in all, And usest none in that true use indeed Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit.. And thou dismember'd with thine own defence. Where thou shalt live, till we can find a time Nurse. O Lord, I could have staid 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 Nurse. Rom. How well my comfort is reviv'd by this! Fri. 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: Give me thy hand; 'tis late: farewell; good night. Farewell. [Exeunt. |