Jul.
Gallop apace, you firy-footed steeds,
Towards Phœbus' mansion^{5 note}

As Phaeton would whip you to the west,
And bring in cloudy night immediately^{6 note}.—

Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night!
That run-away's eyes may wink^{7 note}

Leap to these arms, untalk'd of, and unseen!—
Lovers can see to do their amorous rites

By their own beauties^{8 note}

With thy black mantle; till strange love, grown bold^{2 note},
Think true love acted, simple modesty.
Come, night!—Come, Romeo! come thou day in night!
For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night
Whiter than new snow upon a raven's back^{3 note}

And he will make the face of heaven so fine,
That all the world will be in love with night,
And pay no worship to the garish sun^{7 note}

But Romeo's name, speaks heavenly eloquence.—
Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there, the cords,

That Romeo bade thee fetch?

Nurse.
Ay, ay, the cords. [Throws them down.

Jul.
Ah 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!—
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^{9 note},
And that bare vowel I shall poison more
Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice^{1 note}

I am not I, if there be such an I;
Or those eyes shut, that make thee answer, I.
If he be slain, say—I; or if not, no:
Brief sounds determine of my weal, or woe.

Nurse.
I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes,—
God save the mark^{2 note}!—here on his manly breast:
A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse;
Pale, pale as ashes, all bedawb'd in blood,
All in gore blood;—I swoonded 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; end 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^{3 note}

Nurse.
Tybalt is gone, 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^{4 note}

Despised substance of divinest show!
Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st,
A damned saint^{6 note}, an honourable villain!—
O, nature! what hadst thou to do in hell,
When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend
In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh?—
Was ever book containing such vile matter,
So fairly bound? O, that deceit should dwell
In such a gorgeous palace!

Nurse.
There's no trust,
No faith, no honesty in men; all perjur'd,
All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.—
Ah, where's my man? give me some aqua vitæ:—
These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old^{7 note}
.
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^{8 note};
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^{9 note},
When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it^{1 note}

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 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^{3 note}

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.

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