Fri. Here" 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. 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. "T is 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
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;
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.

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-banished?

Fri. Thou fond mad man, hear me a little speak."

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,

a (A), Hence.

b We have restored this passage to the reading of the folio. The lines were transposed by Steevens, without regard to any copy. In the first quarto the passage is altogether different. In that of 1609 it runs thus:

"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."

e Thus (D).

[SCENE III.

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 that thou dost
not feel:

Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
Doting like me, and like me banished,
An hour but married, Tybalt murdered,
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.

Welcome then.

Doth not she 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 conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love?

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.

Rom.

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.-O 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. [Draws 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: Unseemly woman, in a seeming man! And 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 that in thy life lives," 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 wouldst 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.

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,3
Is set a-fire by thine own ignorance,
And thou dismember'd with thine own defence.
What, rouse thee, man! thy Juliet is alive,
For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead;

a (4) reads

"And slay thy lady, too, that lives in thee."

There art thou happy: Tybalt would kill thee, But thou slew'st Tybalt; there art thou happy :* The law, that threaten'd death, became thy friend,

с

And turn'd it to exile; there art thou happy :
A pack of blessing lights upon thy back;
Happiness courts thee in her best array ;
But, like a misbehav'd and sullen wench,
Thou puttest up 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 ;
Where thou shalt live, till we can find a time
To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends,
Beg pardon of thy prince, and call thee back
With twenty hundred thousand times more joy
Than thou went'st forth in lamentation.
Go, before, nurse: commend me to thy lady;
And bid her hasten all the house to bed,
Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto :
Romeo is coming.

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;
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.

Rom. But that a joy past joy calls out on me, It were a grief so brief to part with thee: Farewell.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.—A Room in Capulet's House. Enter CAPULET, Lady CAPULET, and PARIS. Cap. Things have fallen out, sir, so unluckily,

a (A), which modern editors have followed, gives "happy too."

b Thus (A). The folio, mis-shaped.

e Puttest up. So the folio. (D) reads pouts thy fortune, Is to put up used as to put aside!

That we have had no time to move our daughter:
Look you, she lov'd her kinsman Tybalt dearly,
And so did I ;-Well; we were born to die.-
'Tis very late, she 'll not come down to-night:
I promise you, but for your company,

I would have been a-bed an hour ago.

Par. These times of woe afford no time to Woo;

Madam, good night: commend me to your daughter.

La. Cap. I will, and know her mind early to

Rom. It was the lark, the herald of the morn," No nightingale look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east : Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain's tops; I must be gone and live, or stay and die.

Jul. Yon light is not day-light, I know it, I: It is some meteor that the sun exhales, To be to thee this night a torch-bearer, And light thee on thy way to Mantua : Therefore stay yet, thou need's not to be gone. Rom. Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death; I am content, so thou wilt have it so. I'll say, yon grey is not the morning's eye, "Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow; Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat The vaulty heaven so high above our heads: I have more care to stay than will to go ;Come, death, and welcome!-Juliet wills it so.— How is 't, my soul? let's talk, it is not day.

Jul. It is, it is, hie hence, be gone, away; It is the lark that sings so out of tune, Straining harsh discords, and unpleasing sharps. Some say, the lark makes sweet division;"

This doth not so, for she divideth us :

Some say, the lark and loathed toad change

you:

Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu! adieu ! [Exit ROMEO.

Jul. O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle:

If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him That is renown'd for faith? Be fickle, fortune; For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long, But send him back.

La. Cap. [Within.] Ho, daughter! are you up?

Jul. Who is 't that calls? is it my lady mother?

Is she not down so late, or up so early?
What unaccustom'd cause procures her hither?

Enter Lady CAPULET.

La. Cap. Why, how now, Juliet ?,
Jul.

Madam, I am not well. La. Cap. Evermore weeping for your cousin's death? What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears?

An if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live:

Therefore, have done some grief shows much of love;

But much of grief shows still some want of wit. Jul. Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss. La. Cap. So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend

Where that same banish'd runagate doth live,—
Shall give him such an unaccustom'd dram,"
That he shall soon keep Tybalt company :
And then I hope thou wilt be satisfied

Jul. Indeed, I never shall be satisfied.
With Romeo, till I behold him-dead-
Is my poor heart, so for a kinsman vex'd:
Madam, if you could find out but a man
To bear a poison, I would temper it;
That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof,
Soon sleep in quiet. O, how my heart abhors
To hear him nam'd,-and cannot come to him,—
To wreak the love I bore my cousin
Upon his body that hath slaughter'd him!

La. Cap. Find thou the means, and I'll find such a man.

But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl.

Jul. And joy comes well in such a needy time:

b

a (4) (the other lines being different) has, "That shall bestow on him so sure a draught." b (A), needful.