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It helps not, it prevails not, talk. no more
Fri. O, then I see that mad-men have no ears.
Rom. Thou canst not speak of what thou doft not feel :
[Throwing himself on the ground. Fri. Arise, one knocks ; good Romeo, hide thyself.
[Knocking within. Rom. Not ), unless the breath of heart-fick groans, Mift-like, infold me from the search of eyes. (Knock. Fri. Hark, how they knock!--(who's there :) ---Romeo,
arise, Thou wilt be taken-(stay a while)-stand up ; [Knocks.. Run to my study-(By and by)-God's will! What wilfulness is this I come, I come. [Knock. Who knocks so hard? whencecome you; what's your will? Nurse. [Within.] Let me come in, and you all know
my errand : I come from lady Juliet. Fri. Welcome then.
Enter Nurfe. Nurse. 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
Nurse. O he is even in my mistress' case,
Stand, an' you be a man:
you fall into so deep an oh! Rom. Nurse ! Nurse. Ah Sir! ah Sir!-Death is the end of a'l.
Rom. Speak'it thou of Juliet? how is it with her? Doth not The think me an old murderer, Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy With blood, remov'd but little from her own ? Where is she? and how does she? and what says My conceald 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 cries, and then on Romeo calls, And then down falls again.
Row. 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. -Tell me, Friar, tell me, In what vile part of this anatomy Doth my name lodge! tell me, that I may
fack The hateful mansion.
[Druuing his sword. Fri. Hold thy desperate hand: Thy tears are womanish, thy wild acts denote Th' unreasonable fury of a beast. Unseemly woman in a seeming man! And ill-beseeming beast in feeming both! Thou hast amaz'd me. By my holy order, I thought thy disposition better temper’d. Haft thou slain 7jbalt? wilt thou slay thyself? And flay thy lady, that in thy life lives, By doing damned hate upon thyself? Why rail'ft thou on thy birth, the heav'n, and earth, Since birth, and heav'n, and earth, all three do meet In thee at once, which thou at once would'ft lose Fy, fy! thou sham'st thy shape, thy love, thy wit, Which, like an 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, Digreffing from the valour of a man; Thy dear love sworn, but hollow perjury, Killing that love, which thou haft vow'd to cherish. Thy wit, that ornament to Mape and love, Mil-thapen in the conduct of them both,
Like powder in a skill-lefs foldier's flask,
Nurse. O Lord, I could have staid here all night long,
Ron. Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide.
Nuif. Here, 'ir, a ring the bid me give you, Sir: Hie you,
make haste, for it grows very late.
Fri. Sojourn in Mantua; l'll find out your man,
Rom. But that a joy, past joy, calls out on me,
SCENE changes to Capulet's Houfe.
Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, and Paris.
the lov'd her kinsman Tybalt dearly, And so did I.-Well, we were born to die.'Tis very late, she'll not come down to-night. I promise you, but for your company, I would have been a-bed an hour ago.
Par. These times of woe afford no time to wode : Madain, good night; commend me to your daughter.
La. Cap. I will, and know her mind early to-morrowsTo-night The's mew'd up to her heaviness.
Cap. Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender
Par. Monday, my Lord.
Cap. Monday? Ha! ha! well, Wednefday is too soon, On Thursday let it be: o' Thursday, tell her, She shall be married to this noble Earl. Will you be ready? do you like this hafte ? We'll keep no great a-do-a friend or two For, hark you, Tybalt being lain so late, It may be thought we held him carelesly, Being our kinsman, if we revel much: Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends, And there's an end. But what say you to Thursday?
Par, My Lord, I would that Thursday were to-morrow.
Cap. Well, get you gone on Thursday be it then : Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed, [T. Lady Cap. Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day. Farewel, my Lord light to my chamber, hoa!
Fore me, it is so very late, that we
SCENE, Juliet's Chamber looking to the Garden.
Enter Romeo and Juliet, above at a window; a ladder
of ropes fet. Jul. LT 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 is not day-light, I know it well :
Jul. It is, it is; hie hence, begone, away :