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Nurse. O holy friar, 0, tell me, 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 is even in my
O woeful sympathy!
Even so lies she, Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubber
ing : Stand
up; stand, an you be a man: For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand; Why should you fall into so deep an 0?
Rom. Nurse !
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. Rom.
As if that name, Shot from the deadly level of a gun,
Did murder her; as that name's cursed hand
[drawing his sword. Fri.
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 amaz’d me: by my holy order, I thought thy disposition better temper’d. Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself? And slay 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 would'st lose. Fie, fie! 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, 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, Mis-shapen in the conduct of them both, Like powder in a skill-less soldier's flask, Is set on fire by thine own ignorance,
And thou dismember'd with thine own defence.
Nurse. O Lord, I could have staid here all the night,
Rom. 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.
Rom. How well my comfort is reviv'd by this! Fri. Go hence: Good night; and here stands
all your state;Either be gone before the watch be set, Or by the break of day disguis’d 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: farewel; good night.
Rom. But that a joy past joy calls out on me, It were a grief, so brief to part with thee: Farewel.
A ROOM IN CAPULET'S HOUSE.
Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, and Paris. Cap. Things have fallen out, sir, so unluckily, That we have had no time to move our daughter: Look you, she 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 woo: Madam, good night: commend me to your daugh
ter. La. Cap. I will, and know her mind early to
morrow; To-night she’s mew'd up to her heaviness.
Cap. Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender
Monday, my lord.
you be ready? do you like this haste?
Par. My lord, I would that thursday were to
Cap. Well, get you gone:-O'thursday be it
lord.—Light to my chamber, ho!