Jul.
Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,
Tow'rds Phœbus' mansion; such a waggoner,
As Phaeton, would whip you to the west,
And bring in cloudy night immediately.
^{2 note}

Plaid for a pair of stainless maidenheads.
Hood my unmann'd blood baiting in my cheeks,
With thy black mantle; 'till strange love, grown bold,
Thinks true love acted, simple modesty.
Come, night, come, Romeo! come, thou day in night,
For thou wilt lye upon the wings of night,
Whiter than snow upon a raven's back:
Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-brow'd night!
Give me my Romeo, and, when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heav'n so fine,
That all the world shall be in love with night,
And pay no worship to the garish sun.
O, I have bought the mansion of a love,
But not possess'd it; and though I am sold,
Not yet enjoy'd; so tedious is this day,
As is the night before some festival,
To an impatient child that hath new robes,
And may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse! Enter Nurse with cords.
And she brings news; and every tongue, that speaks
But Romeo's name, speaks heav'nly eloquence;
Now, nurse, what news? what hast thou there?
The cords that Romeo bid thee fetch?

Nurse.
Ay, ay, the cords.

Jul.
Ay me, what news?
Why dost thou wring thy hands?

Nurse.
Ah welladay, 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 heav'n cannot. O Romeo! Romeo!
Who ever would have thought it, Romeo?

Jul.
What devil art thou, that dost torment me thus?
This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell.
Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but, I;
And that bare vowel, ay ^note, shall poison more
Than the ^{3 note}death-darting eye of cockatrice.

Nurse.
I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes,
(God save the mark,) here on his manly breast.
A piteous coarse, a bloody piteous coarse;
Pale, pale as ashes, all bedawb'd in blood,
All in gore blood; I swooned at the sight.

Jul.
O break, my heart—poor bankrupt, break at once!
To prison, eyes! ne'er look on liberty;
Vile earth to earth resign, and motion here,
And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier!

Nurse.
O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had:
O courteous Tybalt, honest gentleman,
That ever I should live to see thee dead!

Jul.
What storm is this, that blows so contrary!
Is Romeo slaughter'd? and is Tybalt dead?
My dear-lov'd cousin, and my dearer lord?
Then let the trumpet sound the general Doom,
For who is living, if those two are gone?

Nurse.
Tybalt is dead, and Romeo banished,
Romeo, that kill'd him, he is banished.

Jul.
O God! did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood?

Nurse.
It did, it did, alas, the day! it did.

Jul.
O serpent-heart, hid with a flow'ring face!
Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?
Beautiful tyrant, fiend angelical!

[^{4 note}

Nurse.
There's no trust,
No faith, no honesty, in men; all perjur'd;
All, all forsworn; all naught; and all dissemblers.
Ah, where's my man? give me some Aqua vitæ—
These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old!
Shame come to Romeo!

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 him so?

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 your 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 kill'd my husband;
All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then?
Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death,
That murther'd me; I would forget it, fain;
But, oh! it presses to my 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 sow'r 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?
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 coarse.
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 high-way to my Bed:
But I, a maid, dye Maiden widowed.
Come, Cord; 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 Lawrence' cell.

Jul.
Oh find him, give this ring to my true knight,
And bid him come, to take his last farewel. [Exeunt.

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