Fri. Too familiar Is my dear fon with fuch four company, I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom. Rom. What lefs 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, fay death; For exile hath more terror in his look, Much more than death: Do not say banishment; Fri. O deadly fin! O rude unthankfulness ! Rom. 'Tis torture, and not mercy: heav'n is here O father, hadft thou no ftrong poifon mixt, Fri. Fond mad-man, hear me fpeak, Unless philofophy can make a Juliet, Fri. Let me difpute with thee of thy estate. Rom. Thou canst not speak of what thou doft not feel: Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love, Then might'ft thou speak, then might'ft thou tear thy hair, Taking the measure of an unmade grave. [Throwing himself on the ground. Fri. Fri. Arife, one knocks; good Romeo hide thyself. [Knock within. Rom. Not I, unless the breath of heart-fick groans, Mift-like, infold me from the fearch of eyes. Fri. Hark how they knock Who's there? Romeo, arife. Thou wilt be taken-ftay a while-ftand up; (Knocks. Run to my ftudy By and by God's will; What wilfulness is this!-I come, I come. [Knock. Who knocks fo hard? whence come you? what's your will? Nurf. [within ] Let me come in, and you fhall know my errand: I come from lady Juliet. Fri. Welcome then. Enter Nurfe. Nurfe. O holy Friar, oh tell me, holy Friar, Where is my lady's lord? where's Romeo? [drunk. Fri. There, on the ground, with his own tears made Nurfe. O he is even in my miftrefs's cafe, Juft in her cafe: O Juliet, Juliet! Rom. Speak't thou of Juliet! how is it with her? Since I have ftain'd the childhood of our joy With blood, Where is the ? how does fhe? what fays fhe? Nurfe. O, the fays nothing, Sir, but weeps and weeps; And now falls on her bed, and then farts up, And Tibalt cries, and then on Romeo calls, 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 Fri. Hold thy defperate hand: fack Art thou a man? thy form cries out, thou art; Thou haft amaz'd me. By my holy order, What, What, rouze thee, man, thy Juliet is alive, Nurfe. Olord, I could have ftaid here all night long Rom. Do fo, and bid my fweet prepare to chide. Cap. T1 [Exeunt. Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, and Paris. Look you, the lov'd her kinfman Tibalt dearly, 'Tis very late, fhe'll not come down to night. Par. Thefe times of grief afford no time to woo : Madam, good night, commend me to your daughter. Cap. Sir Paris, I will make a defperate tender Of my child's love: I think fhe will be rul'd In In all refpects by me, nay more, I doubt it not. -a friend or two For, hark you, Tibalt being flain fo late, Therefore we'll have fome half a dozen friends, Good-night. SCENE The Garden. [Exeunt. VII. Enter Romeo and Juliet above at a window; a ladder Jul. W of Ropes fet. ILT thou be gone? it is not yet near day: It was the Nightingale, and not the Lark, Rom. It was the Lark, the herald of the morn, Jul. Yon light it not day-light, I know it well; And light thee on thy way to Mantua; I'll I'll fay, 'tis not the Lark whofe notes do beat, Rom. More light and light ?---more dark and dark our Farewel, my love: one kifs, and I'll be gone. Nurse. Madam. Jul. Nurfe. Enter Nurfe. [woes. Nurfe. Your lady mother's coming to your chamber: The day is broke, be wary, look about. Jul.Art thou gone fo? love! lord! ah husband, friend! I must hear from thee ev'ry day in th' hour, For in love's hours there are many days. O by this count I fhall be much in Ere I again behold my Romeo. years, Rom. Farewel: I will omit no opportunity, That may convey my greetings to thee, love. Jul. O think'st thou we fhall ever meet again? Rom, I doubt it not, and all these woes fhall ferve For fweet discourses, in our time to come. Jul. O heav'n! I have an ill-divining foul, Methinks I fee thee, now thou'rt parting from me, As one dead in the bottom of a tomb! fo do you: Either my eye-fight fails, or thou look'st pale. Jul. 0° SCENE Juliet's Chamber. Enter Juliet. [Exeunt. VIII. O fortune, fortune, all men call thee fickle. That is renown'd for faith? be fickle, fortune : For |