Alack the day! He’s gone, he’s killed, he’s dead!
Juliet. Can heaven be so envious?
Nurse. Romeo can,
Though heaven cannot. O Romeo, Romeo!
Who ever would have thought it? Romeo!
Juliet. What devil art thou that dost torment me thus?
This torture should be roared in dismal hell.
Hath Romeo slain himself? Say thou but “Ay,”
And that bare vowel “I” shall poison more
Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice.°
I am not I, if there be such an “Ay,”°
Or those eyes’ shot° that makes thee answer “Ay.”
If he be slain, say “Ay”; or if not, “No.”
Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe.
Nurse. I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes,
(God save the mark!°) here on his manly breast.
A piteous corse,° a bloody piteous corse;
Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaubed in blood,
All in gore-blood. I sounded° at the sight.
Juliet. O, break, my heart! Poor bankrout,° break at
once!
To prison, eyes; ne’er look on liberty!
37 weraday wellaway, alas 47 cockatrice basilisk (a serpent fabled to have a killing glance) 48 Ay (1) I (2) eye 49 eyes’ shot i.e., the Nurse’s glance 53 God save the mark God avert the bad omen 54 corse corpse 56 sounded swooned 57 bankrout bankrupt
Vile earth,° to earth resign° end motion here,
And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier!
Nurse. O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had!
O courteous Tybalt! Honest gentleman!
That ever I should live to see thee dead!
Juliet. What storm is this that blows so contrary?
Is Romeo slaught’red, and is Tybalt dead?
My dearest cousin, and my dearer lord?
Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom!°
For who is living, if those two are gone?
Nurse. Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banishèd;
Romeo that killed him, he is banishèd.
Juliet. O God! Did Romeo’s hand shed Tybalt’s
blood?
Nurse. It did, it did! Alas the day, it did!
Juliet. O serpent heart, hid with a flow’ring face!
Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?
Beautiful tyrant! Fiend angelical!
Dove-feathered raven! Wolvish-ravening lamb!
Despisèd substance of divinest show!
Just opposite to what thou justly seem’st—
A damnèd saint, an honorable villain!
O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell
When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend
In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh?
Was ever book containing such vile matter
So fairly bound? O, that deceit should dwell
In such a gorgeous palace!
Nurse. There’s no trust,
No faith, no honesty in men; all perjured,
All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.
Ah, where’s my man? Give me some aqua vitae.°
These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me
old.
59 vile earth referring to her own body 59 resign return 67 dreadful . . . doom i.e., sound the trumpet of Doomsday 88 aqua vitae spirits
Shame come to Romeo!
Juliet Blistered be thy tongue
For such a wish! He was not born to shame.
Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit;
For ’tis a throne where honor may be crowned
Sole monarch of the universal earth.
O, what a beast was I to chide at him!
Nurse. Will you speak well of him that killed your
cousin?
Juliet. Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?
Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy
name
When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it?
But wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin?
That villain cousin would have killed 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,
That murd’red me. I would forget it fain;
But O, it presses to my memory
Like damnèd guilty deeds to sinners’ minds!
“Tybalt is dead, and Romeo—banishèd.”
That “banishèd,” that one word “banishèd,”
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 ranked with° other griefs,
Why followed not, when she said “Tybalt’s dead,”103 tributary contributed 117 needly . . . with must be accompanied by
Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both,
Which modern° lamentation might have moved?
But with a rearward° following Tybalt’s death,
“Romeo is banishèd”—to speak that word
Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,
All slain, all dead. “Romeo is banishèd”—
There is no end, no limit, measure, bound,
In that word’s death; no words can that woe sound.
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.
Juliet. Wash they his wounds with tears? Mine shall be
spent,
When theirs are dry, for Romeo’s banishment.
Take up those cords. Poor ropes, you are beguiled,
Both you and I, for Romeo is exiled.
He made you for a highway to my bed;
But I, a maid, die maiden-widowèd.
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.
Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night.
I’ll to him; he is hid at Lawrence’ cell.
Juliet. O, find him! Give this ring to my true knight
And bid him come to take his last farewell.
Exit [with Nurse].
[Scene 3. Friar Lawrence’s cell.]
Enter Friar [Lawrence].
Friar. Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful°
man.
Affliction is enamored of thy parts,°
And thou art wedded to calamity.
120 modern ordinary 121 rearward rear guard 139 wot know 3.3.1 fearful frightened 2 Affliction . . . parts affliction is in love with your attractive qualities
[Enter Romeo.]
Romeo. Father, what news? What is the Prince’s doom?°
What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand
That I yet know not?
Friar. Too familiar
Is my dear son with such sour company.
I bring thee tidings of the Prince’s doom.
Romeo. What less than doomsday° is the Prince’s
doom?
Friar. A gentler judgment vanished° from his lips—
Not body’s death, but body’s banishment.
Romeo. Ha, banishment? Be merciful, say “death”;
For exile hath more terror in his look,
Much more than death. Do not say “banishment.”
Friar. Here from Verona art thou banishèd.
Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.
Romeo. There is no
world without Verona walls,
But purgatory, torture, hell itself.
Hence banishèd is banished from the world,
And world’s exile is death. Then “banishèd”
Is death mistermed. Calling death “banishèd,”
Thou cut’st my head off with a golden ax
And smilest upon the stroke that murders me.
Friar. O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness!
Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind Prince,
Taking thy part, hath rushed° aside the law,
And turned that black word “death” to “banish-
ment.”
This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not.
Romeo. ’Tis torture, and not mercy. Heaven is here,
Where Juliet lives; and every cat and dog
And little mouse, every unworthy thing,
Live here in heaven and may look on her;
But Romeo may not. More validity,°4 doom final decision 9 doomsday i.e., my death 10 vanished escaped 26 rushed pushed 33 validity value
More honorable state, more courtship° lives
In carrion flies than Romeo. They may seize
On the white wonder of dear Juliet’s hand
And steal immortal blessing from her lips,
Who, even in pure and vestal° modesty,
Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin;°
But Romeo may not, he is banishèd.
Flies may do this but I from this must fly;
They are freemen, but I am banishèd.
And sayest thou yet that exile is not death?
Hadst thou no poison mixture, no sharp-ground
knife,
No sudden mean of death, though ne’er so mean,°
But “banishèd” to kill me—“banishèd”?
O friar, the damnèd use that word in hell;
Howling attends it! How hast thou the heart,
Being a divine, a ghostly confessor,
A sin-absolver, and my friend professed,
To mangle me with that word “banishèd”?
Friar. Thou fond° mad man, hear me a little speak.
Romeo. O, thou wilt speak again of banishment.
Friar. I’ll give thee armor to keep off that word;
Adversity’s sweet milk, philosophy,
To comfort thee, though thou art banishèd.
Romeo. Yet° “banishèd”? Hang up philosophy!
Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,
Displant a town, reverse a prince’s doom,
It helps not, it prevails not. Talk no more.
Friar. O, then I see that madmen have no ears.
Romeo. How should they, when that wise men have
no eyes?
Friar. Let me dispute° with thee of thy estate.°
34 courtship opportunity for courting 38 vestal virgin 39 their own kisses sin i.e., sin when they touch each other 45 mean . . . mean method . . . lowly 52 fond foolish 57 Yet still 63 dispute discuss 63 estate situation
Romeo. Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not
feel.
Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
An hour but married, Tybalt murderèd,
Doting like me, and like me banishèd,
Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy
hair,
And fall upon the ground, as I do now,
Taking the measure° of an unmade grave.
Enter Nurse and knock.
Friar. Arise, one knocks. Good Romeo, hide thyself.
Romeo. Not I; unless the breath of heartsick groans
Mistlike infold me from the search of eyes. [Knock.]
Friar. Hark, how they knock! Who’s there? Romeo,
arise;
Thou wilt be taken.—Stay awhile!—Stand up;
[Knock.]
Run to my study.—By and by!°—God’s will,
What simpleness° is this.—I come, I come! Knock.
Who knocks so hard? Whence come you? What’s
your will?
Enter Nurse.
Nurse. Let me come in, and you shall know my er-
rand.
I come from Lady Juliet.
Friar. Welcome then.
Nurse. O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar,
Where is my lady’s lord, where’s Romeo?
Friar. There on the ground, with his own tears made
drunk.
Nurse. O, he is even in my mistress’ case,°70 Taking the measure i.e., measuring by my outstretched body 76 By and by in a moment (said to the person knocking) 77 simple- ness silly behavior (Romeo refuses to rise) 84 case (with bawdy innuendo complementing “stand,” “rise,” etc. But the Nurse is unaware of this possible interpretation)
Just in her case! O woeful sympathy!
Piteous predicament! Even so lies she,
Blubb’ring and weeping, weeping and blubb’ring.
Stand up, stand up! Stand, and you be a man.
For Juliet’s sake, for her sake, rise and stand!
Why should you fall into so deep an O?°
Romeo. [Rises.] Nurse—
Nurse. Ah sir, ah sir! Death’s the end of all.
Romeo. Spakest thou of Juliet? How is it with her?
Doth not she think me an old murderer,
Now I have stained the childhood of our joy
With blood removed but little from her own?
Where is she? And how doth she! And what says
My concealed lady to our canceled° love?
Nurse. O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps 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.
Romeo. As if that name,
Shot from the deadly level° of a gun,
Did murder her; as that name’s cursèd hand
Murdered her kinsman. O, tell me, friar, tell me,
In what vile part of this anatomy
Doth my name lodge? Tell me, that I may sack°
The hateful mansion.
[He offers to stab himself, and Nurse snatches the dagger away.]
Friar. 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!
And ill-beseeming beast in seeming both!°
90 so deep an O such a fit of moaning 98 canceled invalidated 103 level aim 107 sack plunder 111 unreasonable irrational 112 Unseemly indecorous 113 ill-beseeming . . . both i.e., inappropriate even to a beast in being both man and woman
Thou hast amazed me. By my holy order,
I thought thy disposition better tempered.
Hast thou slain Tybalt? Wilt thou slay thyself?
And slay thy lady that in thy life lives,
By doing damnèd hate upon thyself?
Why railest 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 wouldst lose.°
Fie, fie, thou shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit,°
Which,° like a 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 valor of a man;°
Thy dear love sworn but hollow perjury,
Killing that love which thou hast vowed to cherish;
Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love,
Misshapen in the conduct° of them both,
Like powder in a skilless soldier’s flask,°
Is set afire by thine own ignorance,
And thou dismemb’red with thine own defense.°
What, rouse thee, man! Thy Juliet is alive,
For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead.°
There are thou happy.° Tybalt would kill thee,
But thou slewest Tybalt. There art thou happy.
The law, that threat’ned death, becomes thy friend
And turns it to exile. There art thou happy.
A pack of blessings light upon thy back;
Happiness courts thee in her best array;
But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench,
Thou puts up thy fortune and thy love.
Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable.
120 birth and heaven and earth family origin, soul, and body 121 lose abandon 122 wit intellect 123 Which who 125 bedeck do honor to 127 valor of a man i.e., his manly qualities 131 conduct management 132 flask powder flask 134 dismemb’red . . . defense (i.e., your intellect, properly the defender of shape and love, is set off independently and destroys all) 136 dead i.e., declaring yourself dead 137 happy fortunate
Go get thee to thy love, as was decreed,
Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her.
But look thou stay not till the watch be set,
For then thou canst not pass to Mantua,
Where thou shalt live till we can find a time
To blaze° your marriage, reconcile your friends,
Beg pardon of the Prince, and call thee back
With twenty hundred thousand times more joy
Than thou went’st forth in lamentation.
Go before, nurse. Commend me to thy lady,
And bid her hasten all the house to bed,
Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto.
Romeo is coming.
Nurse. O Lord, I could have stayed here all the night
To hear good counsel. O, what learning is!
My lord, I’ll tell my lady you will come.
Romeo. Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide.
[Nurse offers to go in and turns again.]
Nurse. Here, sir, a ring she bid me give you, sir.
Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late. [Exit.]
Romeo. How well my comfort is revived by this!
Friar. Go hence; good night; and here stands all your
state:°
Either be gone before the watch be set,
Or by the break of day disguised 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. Farewell; good night.
Romeo. But that a joy past joy calls out on me,
It were a grief so brief to part with thee.
Farewell. Exeunt.
Romeo and Juliet Page 15