Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical! Dove-feather'd raven! wolvish-ravening lamb! Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st, Nurse. There's no trust, No faith, no honesty in men; all perjured, All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.— old. Shame come to Romeo! Blister'd be thy tongue Ju. Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit; For 'tis a throne where honor may be crown'd O, what a beast was I to chide at him! Nurse. Will you speak well of him that kill'd Ju. Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband? Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smoothe thy name, When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it?— SHAK. XIII. Q That villain cousin would have kill'd my husband. Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring; Your tributary drops belong to woe, Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy. My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain; And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my hus band: All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then? Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death, Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds: That- banished,' that one word—' banished,' Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death Was woe enough, if it had ended there; Or, if sour woe delights in fellowship, And needly will be rank'd with other griefs; Why follow'd not, when she said—' Tybalt 's dead,' Which modern 1 lamentation might have moved? In that word's death; no words can that woe sound. 1 Common. Where is my father and my mother, nurse? Nurse. Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corse. Will you go to them? I will bring you thither. Ju. Wash they his wounds with tears? mine shall be spent, When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment. He made you for a highway to my bed; But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed. Come, cords; come, nurse: I'll to my wedding bed; And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead! Nurse. Hie to your chamber: I'll find Romeo To comfort you: I wot well where he is. Ju. O, find him: give this ring to my true knight, And bid him come to take his last farewell. [Exeunt. SCENE III. Friar Laurence's cell. Enter FRIAR laurence and ROMEO. F. Lau. Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man: Affliction is enamor'd of thy parts, Ro. Father, what news? what is the prince's doom? What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand, Is my dear son with such sour company. I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom. Ro. What less than doomsday is the prince's doom? F. Lau. A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips; Not body's death, but body's banishment. Ro. Ha! banishment? be merciful; say Death; For exile hath more terror in his look, Much more than death: do not say, Banishment. F. Lau. Hence from Verona art thou banished. Be patient; for the world is broad and wide. Ro. There is no world without Verona walls, Hence-banished is banish'd from the world, F. Lau. O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness ! Ro. 'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here, Where Juliet lives; and every cat, and dog, O friar, the damned use that word in hell; A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd, F. Lau. Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak a word. Ro. O, thou wilt speak again of banishment. F. Lau. I'll give thee armour to keep off that word; Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy, 1 Worth, value. |