And bring in cloudy night immediately. ΙΟ Come, night, come, Romeo, come, thou day in night; For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night Whiter than new snow on a raven's back. Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow'd night, And he will make the face of heaven so fine, As is the night before some festival 21 To an impatient child that hath new robes. And may not wear them. O, here comes nurse, And she brings news, and every tongue that speaks But Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence. 30 my Enter Nurse, with cords. Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there? the cords That Romeo bid thee fetch? Nurse. Ay, ay, the cords. [Throws them down. Jul. Ay me! what news? why dost thou wring thy hands? Nurse. Ah, well-a-day! he's dead, he's dead, he's dead. We are undone, lady, we are undone. Alack the day! he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead. Jul. Can heaven be so envious? Nurse. Romeo can, Though heaven cannot. O Romeo, Romeo! Or those eyes shut, that make thee answer 'I.' Vile earth, to earth resign, end motion here, 40 50 And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier! Romeo that kill'd him, he is banished. Jul. O God! did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood? Jul. O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face! Nurse. There's no trust, All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers. Ah, where's my man? give me some aqua vitæ : 60 70 80 These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old. Jul. Blister'd be thy tongue For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd O, what a beast was I to chide at him! 90 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? 100 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: But, O, it presses to my memory, Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds: That banished,' that one word 'banished,' Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death Or, if sour woe delights in fellowship, And needly will be rank'd with other griefs, Why follow'd not, when she said Tybalt's dead,' Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both, ΠΙΟ Which modern lamentation might have moved? 120 But with a rear-ward following Tybalt's death, In that word's death; no words can that woe sound. 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. 130 Take up those cords: poor ropes, you are beguiled, 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, 140 And bid him come to take his last farewell. [Exeunt. Scene III. Friar Laurence's cell. 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. |