Fri.
Romeo, come forth, come forth, thou fearful Man;
Affliction is enamour'd 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.
He can but doom me dead, and I'm prepar'd.

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 Looks,
Than Death itself: Do not say Banishment.

Fri.
Here from Verona art thou banish'd:—
Be patient, for the World is broad and wide.

Rom.
There is no World without Verona's Walls
But Purgatory, Torture, Hell itself!
Thou cut'st my Head off with a golden Axe,
And smilest 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 meer Mercy, and thou see'st it not.

Rom.
'Tis Torture and not Mercy: Heaven is here
Where Juliet lives, every unworthy Thing
Lives here in Heaven, but by looking on her,
But Romeo may not; more Validity,
More honourable State, more Happiness
Have Carrion Flies, than Romeo; they may seize
On the white Wonder of dear Juliet's Hand,
And steal immortal Blessings from her Lips,
Which banish'd Romeo cannot.
O Father had'st thou no strong Poison mixt,
No Dagger, nor no present Means of Death,
But Banishment to torture me withal?
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 profest,
To mangle me with that Word Banishment?

Fri.
Fond Man, hear me but speak.

Rom.
O! thou wilt speak again of Banishment!
Death's more desirable than living Torment?
To die is to be banish'd from myself:
And Juliet is myself, my Life, my Soul.
Unless I be by Juliet in the Night,
There is no Musick in the Nightingale;
Unless I be by Juliet in the Day,
The Day grows hateful as the blackest Night:
She is my Essence, and I cease to be,
If not by her fair Influence kept alive.

Fri.
Yet hear what I wou'd say of thy Estate.

Rom.
Thou can'st not speak of what thou dost not feel.
Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy Love,
Scarce three Hours married, Tibalt murder'd,
Doating like me, and like me banish'd;
Then might'st thou speak: Then might'st thou tear thy Hair,
And fall upon the Ground, as I do now. [Throws himself on the Ground.

Fri.
Arise, one Knocks; good Romeo hide thyself,
Thou wilt be taken—Stay a while—stand up.
Run to my Study—By and by—What Wilfulness!
I come; who knocks so hard? What is 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.
O, 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's even in my Mistress's Case:
Just in her Case: O, woeful Sympathy!

Rom.
Nurse.

Nurse.
Ah, Sir! Death's the End of all.

Rom.
Speak'st thou of Juliet? How is it with her?
Doth she not think me a dire Murderer?
How I have stain'd the Childhood of our Joy,
With Blood remov'd but little from her own?
Where is she? How does she? And 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, down falls again.

Rom.
As if that Name,
Shot from the deadly Level of a Gun,
Did murder her, as this accursed Hand

Murder'd her Kinsman: 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— [Laying his Hand on his Sword.

Fri.
Hold thy desperate Hand:
Art thou a Man? Thy Form cries out thou art;
Thy Tears are Womanish; thy wild Acts do note
The unreasonable Fury of a Beast.
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 can'st not pass to Mantua,
Where thou shalt live till we can find a Time
To blaze your Marriage, reconcile your Friends,
Beg Pardon of the 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 Night long, 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 is a Ring she bid me give you, Sir:
—Hie you; make haste; for it grows very late. [Exit Nurse.

Rom.
How much my Comfort is reviv'd by this!

Fri.
Sojourn in Mantua: I'll find your Page,
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.
I am summon'd by the Mistress of my Heart,
Or 'twere a Grief so soon from thee to part.

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