Jul. 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 honour may be crown'd Sole monarch of the universal earth. O, what a beast was I to chide at him!
Nurse. Will you speak well of him that kill'd your cousin ?
Jul. Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband ? Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name, When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it But, wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin ? That villain cousin would have kill'd my husband: Back, foolish tears, back to )-our native spring; Your tributary drops belong to woe, Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy. My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain; And. Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my hus- band: 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 xny memory, Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds: Tybalt is dead, and Romeo--banished! That--banished, that one word--banished, Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death Was woe enough, if it had ended there: Or,--if sour woe delights in fellowship, And needly will be ranked with other griefs,-- Why follow'd not, when she said--Tybalt's dead, Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both, 3J,rhich modern lamentation might have mov'd ? But, with a rear-ward following Tybalt's death, Romeo is banished !--to speak that word, Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet, All slain, all dead :--Romeo is banished There is no end, no limit, measure, bound, In that word's death; no words can that woe sound.- 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. Take up those cords.--Poor ropes, you are beguil'd, Both you and I, for Romeo is exil'd: He made you for a highway to my bed, But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed. Come, cords; come, nurse: I'll to my wedding bed; And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead]
Nurse. Hie to your chamber; I'll find Romeo To comfort you :--I wot well where he is. Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night: I'll to him; he is hid at Laurence' cell.
Jul. O, find him ! give this ring to my true knight, And bid him come to take his last farewell. [Exeunt.
Scene. III. - Friar Laurence's Cell.
Enter Friar Laurence and Romeo.
Fri. Romeo, come forth; come forth; thou fearful man: Affliction is enamour'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, That I yet know not ?
Fri. Too familiar Is my 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 doom ?
Fri. A gentler judgment vanished 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 exile is death :--then, banished Is death mis-term'd :?alling 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 tm'n'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 cut, 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 Jullet's hand, And steal immortal blessing from her lips; Who, even in pure and vestal modesty, Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin; This may flies do, when I from this must fly: And say'st thou yet, that exile is not death ? But Romeo may not; he is banished. Flies may do this, but I from this must fly: They are free men, but I am banished. 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; Howling attends 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 ?
'r/. 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, thou?.h 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. Went 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.
