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Rom. There is no world without Verona's walls,
But purgatory, torture, hell itself.

Hence banished, is banifh'd from the world;
And world-exil'd, is death. That banishment
Is death mif-term'd; calling death banishment,
Thou cut'ft my head off with a golden ax,
And fmil'ft upon the stroke that murders me.
Fri. O deadly fin! O rude unthankfulness !
Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind Prince,
Taking thy part, hath rusht afide the law,

And turn'd that black word death to banishment.
This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not.

Rom. 'Tis torture, and not mercy. Heav'n is here,
Where Juliet lives; and every cat and dog
And little moufe, every unworthy thing,
Lives here in heaven, and may look on her;
But Romeo may not. (6) More validity,
More honourable state, more courtship lives
In carrion flies, than Romeo; they may feize
On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand,
And steal immortal bleffings from her lips;
Which ev'n in pure and veftal modefty
Still blush, as thinking their own kiffes fin.
This may flies do, when I from this must fly;
And fay'st thou yet, that exile is not death?
But Romeo may not; he is banished.

Hadft thou no Poifon mixt, no fharp-ground knife,
No fudden mean of death, tho' ne'er fo mean,
But banished to kill me? banished ?

Q Friar, the Damned ufe that word in hell;
Howlings attend it: how haft thou the heart,
Being a Divine, a ghoftly Confeffor,

A fin-abfolver, and my friend profeft,
To mangle me with that word, banishment?
Fri. Fond mad-man, hear me fpeak-

Rom. O, thou wilt fpeak again of banishment.
Fri. I'll give thee armour to keep off that word,
Adverfity's fweet milk, philofophy,

(6) More validity,

More bonourable fate, more courtship lives

In carrion flies, than Romeo;] Validity feems here to mean,

worth, or dignity, and courtship the state of a courtier permitted to approach the highest prefence.

To

To comfort thee, tho' thou art banished.
Rom. Yet, banished? hang up philofophy:
Unless philofophy can make a Juliet,
Difplant a town, reverse a Prince's doom,
It helps not, it prevails not, talk no more

Fi. O, then I fee that mad men have no ears.
Rom. How should they, when that wife men have no
eyes?

Fri. Let me difpute with thee of thy estate.

Rom. Thou canft not fpeak of what thou doft not feel:

Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,.

An hour but married, Tybalt murdered,
Doating like me, and like me banished;

Then might'ft thou fpeak, then might'st thou tear thy

hair,

And fall upon the ground as I do now,,

Taking the measure of an unmade grave.

[Throwing himself on the Ground. Fri. Arife, one knocks. Good Romeo, hide thyself, Knock within. Rom. Not I, 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?)— Ro

meo, arife.

Thou wilt be taken-(ftay awhile)-stand up:

[Knocks.

Run to my Study-(By and by)-God's will!
What willfulness is this?-I come, I come. [Knock.
Who knocks fo hard; whence come you? what's your
will?

Nurfe. [Within.] Let me come in, and you fhall know my errand:

I come from Lady Juliet:

Fri. Welcome then.

Enter Nurfe.

Nurfe. O 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.

Nurfe. O he is even in my miftrefs' cafe,

Juft

Juft in her cafe, O woful fympathy!
Piteous predicament! ev'n fo lies the,

Blubb'ring and weeping, weeping and blubbering.
Stand up, ftand up; -Stand, an' you be a Man:
For Juliet's Sake, for her Sake, rife and ftand.
(7) Why fhould you fall into fo deep an
Rom. Oh, Nurfe!

Nurfe. Ah Sir! ah Sir! -Death is the end of all.
Rom. Speak'ft thou of Julier? how is it with her?
Doth not the think me an old murderer,

Now I have ftain'd the childhood of our joy
With blood, remov'd but little from her own?
Where is the? and how does he? and what fays
My conceal'd lady to our (8) cancell❜d love?

Nurfe. O, fhe fays nothing, Sir; but weeps and

weeps;

And now falls on her bed, and then starts

And Tybalt cries, and then on Romeo calls,
And then down falls again.

Rom. As if that name,

Shot from the deadly level of a gun,

up;

Did murder her, as that name's curfed hand

Murder'd her kinfman.

-Tell me, Friar, tell me,

In what vile part of this anatomy

Doth my name lodge? Tell me, that I may fack
The hateful manfion.

Fri. Hold thy defperate hand.

[Drawing bis faword.

Art thou a man? Thy form cries out thou art.
Thy tears are womanish, thy wild acts denote
Th' unreasonable fury of a beast.
(9) Unfeemly Woman in a feeming Man!
And ill-befeeming Beaft in feeming both!
Thou haft amaz'd me. By my holy Order,

(7) So Hanmer. The other editions read,

Why Should you fall into fo deep an ob?

I thought

(8) cancell'd love? The folio reads conceal'd love.

(9) Unfeemly woman, &c.] This ftrange nonfenfe Mr. Pope threw out of his edition for defperate, But it is easily restored as Sbakefpeare wrote it into good pertinent fense.

Unfeemly Woman in a feeming Man!

AN ill-befeeming Beaft in feeming GROTH!

i. e. you have the ill-befeeming paffions of a brute beaft in the wellfeeming fhape of a rational creature. For having in the first line faid, he was a woman in the fhape of a man, he aggravates the

thought

I thought thy difpofition better temper❜d.
Haft thou flain Tybalt? Wilt thou flay thyself?
And flay thy lady, that in thy life lives,

By doing damned Hate upon thyself?

(1) 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 wouldst lose ?
Fy, fy, thou fham'ft thy Shape, thy Love, thy Wit,
Which, like an Ufurer, abound'ft in all,

And useft none, in that true ufe indeed,
Which fhould 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 fworn, but hollow Perjury,
Killing that Love, which thou haft vow'd to cherish.
Thy Wit, that Ornament to Shape and Love,
Mif-shapen in the Conduct of them both,
Like Powder in a fkill-lefs Soldier's Flafk,
Is fet on Fire by thine own Ignorance,

(2) And thou difmember'd with thine own Defense.
What, roufe thee, man, thy Juliet is alive,

thought in the fecond, and fays he was even a brute in the shape of a rational creature. Seeming is used in both places for femly. WARBURTON.

The old reading is probable. Thou art a beaft of ill qualities, under the appearance both of a woman and a man,

(1) Why rail'ft thou, &c.] These were again thrown out by Mr. Pope, and for the fame reafon: But they are easily set right. We should read,

Since Birth, and Heav'n, and Earth, all three so meet,

In thee ATONE; which then at once would lofe.

i. e.. Why rail you at your Birth, and at Heaven, and Earth, which are all fo meet, or aufi icious to you: And all three your friends, [all three in thee atone] and yet you would lofe them all by one rafh ftroke. Why he faid,Birth, Heaven, and Earth, all three atone --was becaufe Romeo was of noble birth, of virtuous difpofitions, and heir to a large patrimony. But by fuicide he would difgrace the first, offend the fecond, and forego the enjoyment of the third. Atone is frequently ufed by Shakespeare in the fenfe of, to agree, be friendly together, &c. So in, Asy Is you like it,

Then is there mirth in Heav'n,

When earthly things made even

ATONE together.

WARBURTON.

The alteration makes no improvement. The meaning is the. fame in the common reading better expreffed.

(2) And tbou difmember'd with thy own defenfe.] And thou torn to pieces with thy own weapons.

For

For whofe dear fake thou waft but lately dead:
There art thou happy. Tybalt would kill thee,
But thou flew'ft Tybalt; there thou'rt happy too.
The law, that threatned death, became thy friend,
And turn'd it to exile; there art thou happy;
A pack of bleflings light upon thy back,
Happiness courts thee in her beft array,
But, like a mifbehav'd and fullen wench,
Thou pout'ft upon thy fortune and thy love.
Take heed, take heed, for fuch die miferable.
Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed,
Afcend her chamber, hence and comfort her:
But, look, thou ftay not 'till the watch be fet;
For then thou canst not pass to Mantua,
Where thou fhalt live, 'till we can find a time
To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends,
Beg pardon of thy Prince, and call thee back
With twenty hundred thoufand times more joy,
Than thou went'ft forth in lamentation.
Go before, nurfe. Commend me to thy lady,
And bid her haften all the house to bed,
Which heavy forrow makes them apt unto.
Romeo is coming.

Nurfe. O Lord, I could have ftaid here all night long, To hear good counfel. Oh, what Learning is! My Lord, I'll tell my Lady you will come.

Rom. Do fo, and bid my Sweet prepare to chide. Nurfe. Here, Sir, a ring the bid me give you, Sir: Hie you, make hafte, for it grows very late. Rom. How well my comfort is reviv'd by this! Fri. (3) Go hence. Good night. And (4) here ftands all your state;

Either begone before the watch be fet,

Or by the break of day difguis'd from hence.
Sojourn in Mantua; I'll find out your man,
And he fhall fignify from time to time
Every good hap to you, that chances here.
Give me thy hand, 'Tis late. Farewel.

Good night.

(3) Go bence. Goad night, &c.] Thefe three lines are omitted in all the modern editions.

(4)

bere ftands all your fate] The whole of your fortune depends on this.

Rom

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