Friar.
Come from thy hiding-place, young Romeo, come! (Romeo creeps from under a Barrel.)

Romeo.
Say, what's my doom?

Friar.
The Prince looked dev'lish rum,
And will transport thee; but pray think on't lightly.

Romeo.
Oh! if I had him here I'd cane him tightly.
What! transportation! I prefer a halter!

Friar.
Thy ravings can't his resolution alter:
Besides, 'tis quite ungrateful thus to mutter;—
The Prince's heart is soft as new-made butter;
He might have doomed thee like a thief to die.

Romeo.
I wish he had: why any carrion fly
Is better off than Romeo now; because
A fly might Juliet kiss beneath her gauze,
But Romeo may not even look upon her!

Friar.
Thou'rt too rumbustical, upon my honor:

Murder's thy crime; a crime too great to gloss over:
So bear thy punishment like a philosopher.

Romeo. (Pulls off Friar Lawrence's Wig.)
—If by Philosophy I could transform
This wig to Juliet, tender, fair, and warm;
Then 'twould be something; but that's out o'th' question:
Therefore the word's unfit for my digestion.

Friar.
Pray have with me a little disputation:

Romeo.
Why 'tis no use to keep such botheration: (Throws the Wig at him.)
Wert thou like me, foaming with rage unbottled,
In love, just married too, and Tibalt throttled,
And were thy love as faithful as Queen Dido,
And thou torn from her, thou would'st rave as I do!
Thus on the ground thoud'st throw thyself in dudgeon, (Throws himself on the ground.)
Or knock thy brains out with some friendly bludgeon. (Knocking within.)

Friar.
Romeo, be easy; hear'st thou not the knocking?
Thy rude behaviour I declare is shocking:
Besides, the dust will spoil thy fine apparel,—
Creep off, and hide thyself beneath the barrel.

Romeo.
It smells too strong of rum. (Knocking again.)

Friar.
Why zounds, I'm coming!
Do stop; don't make such a confounded drumming;

If you keep such a rattle, out I'll bar you;
But tell me quickly, who the devil are you?

Nurse. (Within.)
—I come from Juliet.

Friar.
Then walk in, I pray. Enter Nurse.

Nurse.
O my dear Sir! there's been the deuce to pay!
But you know, all of course;—Is Romeo found?

Friar.
Why can't you see his carcase on the ground?
There he lies bellowing, and as drunk by jingo
With his own tears as sots e'en get with stingo.

Nurse.
Surely that blubbering fellow is'nt he?

Romeo.
Old dame it is.

Nurse.
Oh! what a sight to see!
Juliet's quite mad; she felled me at a blow.

Romeo.
Pray, how is she? this moment let me know. (Rising.)

Nurse.
Why mad I tell you.—There's no coming near her;
And all her Father's Household greatly fear her;

She raves on Tibalt, jumps about the room,
Seizes the poker, snatches up a broom,
The fire-tongs too, and oftentimes the bellows,
With which she licks the servant-men.

Friar.
Poor fellows!

Nurse.
And then on Romeo all at once she calls,
Then has a fit, and on the carpet falls.

Romeo.
I'll cut my throat; I will!

Friar.
For shame, you booby!
Thou art no man, but a poor silly looby,
Although thou'st Tibalt killed, I don't see why
Thou should'st thyself kill, and make Juliet cry:
Go to her room this night as you agreed on;
Stay a short time, and then to Mantua speed on:
There dwell awhile with patience, until I
Shall blow your marriage by a hue and cry;
The Prince will grant a pardon then, of course—
The Cryers too shall bawl till they are hoarse
In publishing the news. Nurse get thee home,
And tell thy Mistress Romeo soon will come.

Nurse.
Sir, here's my lady's garter, which she said
I was to give you ere you went to bed.

Romeo.
This gives me comfort.

Friar.
Mantua must be
Thy dwelling place a month or two, d'ye see:

Thy man shall bring thee letters every week.
Now let's shake hands; good night! thy mistress seek.

Romeo.
But that love's clapper knocks hard at my heart,
I really should be sorry to depart. [Exeunt.

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