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dear son with such sour company:
I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom.
Rom. What less than dooms-day is the prince's
Fri. 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. 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 exíle is death :then banishment
Is death mis-term’d: calling death-banishment,
Thou cut’st my head off with a golden axe,
And smil'st 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. '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
· This is dear mercy,] The old copies read mere mercy, which in ancient language, signifies absolute mercy.
More honourable state, more courtship lives
In carrion flies, than Romeo:] Validity seems here to mean worth or dignity. By courtship, the author seems to mean, the
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; he 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,
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—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!
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.S Rom. Thou canst not speak of what thou dost
not feel: Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
state of a lover; that dalliance, in which he who courts or wooes a lady is sometimes indulged.
3 Let me dispute with thee of thy estate.] i. e. talk over thy affairs.
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. Rom. Not I; unless the breath of heart-sick
groans, Mist-like, infold ine from the search of
[Knocking Fri. Hark, how they knock !—Who's there?
Thou wilt be taken :-Stay a while:-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.
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
Just in her case!
O woeful sympathy!
Piteous predicament !
Even so lies she,
Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering:Stand up, 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?
Nurse. Ah sir! ah sir!-Well, death's the end of
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 conceald lady to our cancell'd love? Nurse. O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and
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
Murder'd her kinsman.-0 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.
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: Unseenly 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 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
In thee at once; which thou at once would'st lose.
Fye, fye! thou shain'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.
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,
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 defence.5
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 exíle; there art thou happy:
A pack of blessings lights upon thy back;
Happiness courts thee in her best array;
But, like a mis-behav'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;
4 Like powder in a skill-less soldier's flask, &c.] To understand the force of this allusion, it should be remembered that the ancient English soldiers, using match-locks, instead of locks with flints as at present, were obliged to carry a lighted match hanging at their belts, very near to the wooden flask in which they kept their powder.
s And thou dismember'd with thine own defence.] And thou torn to pieces with thine own weapons.