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In carrion-flies, than Romeo : they may seize
Fri. Fond madman, hear me speak:
Rom. Yet banished ? hang up philosophy:
Fri. Let me dispute with thee of thy estate.
hair And fall upon the ground, as I do now, Taking the measure of an unmade grave.
[Throwing himself on the Ground. Fri. Arise, one knocks; good Romeo, hide thyself.
Knocks within. Thou wilt be taken--stay a while-stand up ;
Run to my study-By and by-God's will ;
your will ?
Nurse. [Within.] Let me come in, and you
know my errand : I come from Lady Juliet.
Fri, Welcome then.
Enter NURSE. Nurse. Oh, holy Friar, oh 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. Oh, he is even in my mistress' case ; Just in her case : Oh, Juliet, Juliet !
Rom. Speak'st thou of Juliet ! how is it with her? Since I've sustain’d the childhood of our joy With blood, Where is she? How does she? what
she? Nurse. Oh, she says nothing, sir, but weeps, and
Rom. As if that name,
sack The hateful mansion.
Fri. Hold thy desperate hand :
Beg pardon of thy Prince, and call thee back,
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. 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.
Rom. But that a joy, past joy, calls out on me, It were a grief so soon to part with thee. (Exeunt.
Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and PARIS.
Cap. Things have fall’n out, sir, so unluckily,
Par. These times of grief afford no time to woo : Madam, good night, commend me to your daughter.
Cap. Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender Of my
child's love: I think she will be ruld In all respects by me; nay more, I doubt it not. But, soft; what day? Well, Wednesday is too soon, On Thursday, let it be, you shall be marry'd. We'll keep no great ado-a friend or twoFor, hark you,
Tibalt being slain so late, It may be thought we held him carelessly, 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:
[To LADY CAPULET. Prepare her, wife, against this wedding day. Farewell, my lord-Good night.
Enter Romeo and JULI ET.
Rom. It was the la rk, the herald of the morn,
Stands tip-toe on the misty mountain tops.
Jul. Yon light is not day-light, I know it well;
Rom. Let me be ta’en ; let me be put to death ;
say, ’tis not the lark, whose notes do beat
Jul. It is, it is ; hie hence, away, begone;
Rom. More light and light ? --more dark and dark
Farewell, my love; one kiss, and I'll begone.
[Romeo descends the Ropeladder,
Enter NURSE. Nurse. Madam. Jul. Nurse. Nurse. Your lady mother's coming to your cham
ber : The day is broke, be wary, look about. Jul. Art thou gone so ? love ! lord ! ah, husband,