Enter Nurse Nurse O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar, Where is my lady's lord, where's Romeo? FRIAR LAURENCE There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk.Nurse O, he is even in my mistress' case, Just in her case! O woful sympathy!
Piteous predicament! Even so lies she, Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering.
Stand up, stand up; stand, and you be a man:For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand;Why should you fall into so deep an O? ROMEO Nurse! Nurse Ah sir! ah sir! Well, death's the end of all.ROMEO Spakest thou of Juliet? how is it with her?
Doth she not think me an old murderer, Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy With blood removed but little from her own?
Where is she? and how doth she? and what says My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love? Nurse O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps;And now falls on her bed; and then starts up, And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries, And then down falls again.ROMEO As if that name, Shot from the deadly level of a gun, Did murder her; as that name's cursed hand Murder'd her kinsman.O, 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.
Drawing his sword FRIAR LAURENCE Hold thy desperate hand:Art thou a man? thy form cries out thou art:Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denote The unreasonable fury of a beast:Unseemly woman in a seeming man!
Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both!
Thou hast amazed me: by my holy order, I thought thy disposition better temper'd.
Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself?
And stay thy lady too that lives in thee, By doing damned hate upon thyself?
Why rail'st thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth?
Since birth, and heaven, and earth, all three do meet In thee at once; which thou at once wouldst lose.
Fie, fie, thou shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit;Which, like a usurer, abound'st in all, And usest none in that true use indeed Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit:Thy noble shape is but a form of wax, Digressing from the valour of a man;Thy dear love sworn but hollow perjury, Killing that love which thou hast vow'd to cherish;Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love, Misshapen in the conduct of them both, Like powder in a skitless soldier's flask, Is set afire by thine own ignorance, And thou dismember'd with thine own defence.
What, rouse thee, man! thy Juliet is alive, For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead;There art thou happy: Tybalt would kill thee, But thou slew'st Tybalt; there are thou happy too:The law that threaten'd death becomes thy friend And turns it to exile; there art thou happy:A pack of blessings lights up upon thy back;Happiness courts thee in her best array;
But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench, Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love:Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable.
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 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 stay'd here all the night To hear good counsel: O, what learning is!
My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come.ROMEO 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.
ROMEO How well my comfort is revived by this! FRIAR LAURENCE Go hence; good night; and here stands all your state:Either be gone before the watch be set, Or by the break of day disguised from hence: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: farewell; good night.ROMEO But that a joy past joy calls out on me, It were a grief, so brief to part with thee:Farewell.
