Fri.
Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man,
Affliction is enamoured 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 four company,
I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom.

Rom.
What less than death can be the prince's doom?

Fri.
A gentler judgment vanish'd 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;
'Tis death mis-term'd calling death banishment;
Thou cut'st my head off with a golden ax,
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 push'd aside the law,
And turn'd that black word death to banishment.
This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not.

Rom.
'Tis torture, and not mercy: heav'n is here,† ^note


Where Juliet lives. There's more felicity
In carrion-flies, than Romeo: they may seize
On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand,
And steal immortal blessings from her lips;
But Romeo may not, he is banished!
Oh father, hast thou no strong poison mixt,
No sharp ground knife, no present means of death,
But banishment, to torture me withal?

Fri.
Fond mad-man, hear me speak,
I'll give thee armour to bear off that word,
Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy:
To comfort thee, tho' thou art banished.

Rom.
Yet banished? hang up philosophy:
Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,
It helps not, it prevails not; talk no more—

Fri.
Let me dispute with thee of thy estate.

Rom.
Thou can'st not speak of what thou dost not feel:
Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
An hour but married, Tibalt 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.* ^note [Throwing himself on the ground.

Fri.
Arise, one knocks; good Romeo, hide thyself. [Knock within.

Rom.
Not I; unless the breath of heart-sick groans,
Mist-like infold me from the search of eyes.

Fri.
Hark, how they knock—Romeo, arise,
Who's there?
Thou wilt be taken—stay awhile—stand up; [Knocks.
Run to my study—By and by—God's will;
What wilfulness is this!—I come, I come. [Knocks.
Who knocks so hard? whence come you? what's your will?

Nurse. [within.]
Let me come in, and you shall know my errand:
I come from lady Juliet.

Fri.
Welcome, then. Enter Nurse.

Nurse.
Oh, holy friar, oh tell me, holy friar,
Where is my lady's lord? where's Romeo?

Fri.
There, on the ground, with his own tears made drunk.

Nurse.
O he is even in my mistress's case,
Just in her case: Oh Juliet, Juliet!

Rom.
Speak'st thou of Juliet! how is it with her?
Since I have stain'd the childhood of our joy
With blood,
Where is she? how does she? what says she?

Nurse.
Oh, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps,
And now falls on her bed, and then starts up,
And Tibalt cries, and then on Romeo calls,
And then falls down again.

Rom.
As if that name
Shot from the deadly level of a gun,
Did murder her. Oh 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.

Fri.
Hold thy desperate hand:* ^note
Art thou a man? thy form cries out thou art;
Thy tears are womanish, thy wild acts note
Th' unreasonable fury of a beast.
Thou hast amazed me. By my holy order,
I thought thy disposition better-temper'd.
Hast thou slain Tibalt? wilt thou slay thyself?
And slay thy lady, too, that lives in thee?
What, rouze thee man! thy Juliet is alive;
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 rest,
Romeo is coming.

Nurse.
Oh lord, I could have staid here, all night,
To hear good counsel; oh, 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.

Rom.
How well my comfort is reviv'd by this!

Fri.
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, farewel, good night.

Rom.
But that a joy, past joy, calls out on me,
It were a grief so soon to part with thee. [Exeunt.

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