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Ay, ay, the cords.
[Throws them down. Jul. Ah me! what news! why dost thou wring
thy hands? Nurse. Ah well-a-day! he's dead, he's dead, he's
dead! We are undone, lady, we are undone! Alack the day!-he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead!
Jul. Can heaven be so envious ?
Nurse. I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes,
God save thaw the wound, I my weal, or w
5 say thou but I,] In Shakspeare's time the affirmative particle ay was usually written I, and here it is necessary to retain the old spelling.
6 God save the mark !) This proverbial exclamation occurs again, with equal obscurity, in Othello, Act I. sc. i.
Nurse. O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had ! O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman! That ever I should live to see thee dead!
Jul. What storm is this, that blows so contrary? Is Romeo slaughter'd; and is Tybalt dead? My dear-lov'd 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 banished; Romeo, that kill'd him, he is banished. Jul. O God!-did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's
blood ? Nurse. It did, it did; alas the day! it did.
Jul. O serpent heart, hid with a flow'ring face ! Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave? Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical ! Dove-feather'd raven! wolvish-ravening lamb! Despised substance of divinest show! Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st, A damned saint, an honourable villain ! O, nature! what hadst thou to do in hell, When thou did'st 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 perjur'd, All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.Ah, where's my man? give me some aqua vitæ :These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old. Shame come to Romeo ! Jul.
Blister'd be thy tongue, For such a wish! he was not born to shame: Upon his brow shame is asham'd to sit; For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd Sole monarch of the universal earth. VOL. IX.
O, what a beast was I to chide at him!
your cousin ? Jul. 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 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, That murder'd me: I would forget it fain; But, O! it presses to my memory, Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds: Tybalt is dead, and Romeo-banished; 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, Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both, Which modern lamentation might have mov’d? But, with a rear-ward following Tybalt's death, Romeo is banished, -to speak that word, Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,
7 what tongue shall smooth thy name,] To smooth, in ancient language, is to stroke, to caress, to fondle.
8 Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts.] That is, is worse than the loss of ten thousand Tybalts.
9 Which modern lamentation, &c.] i. e. trite, common.
All slain, all dead:-Romeo is banished,
Nurse. Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corse: Will you go to them? I will bring you thither. Jul. Wash they his wounds with tears ? mine shall
Nurse. Hie to your chamber : I'll find Romeo
Jul. O find him! give this ring to my true knight, And bid him come to take his last farewell.
Enter Friar LAURENCE and Romeo. Fri. Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful
man ; Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts, And thou art wedded to calamity. Rom. Father, what news? what is the prince's
doom? What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand, That I yet know not?
Too familiar Is my dear son with such sour company: I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom. Rom. What less than dooms-day is the prince's
doom? Fri. A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips, Not body's death, but body's banishment.
Rom. Ha! banishment? be merciful, say_death: For exile hath more terror in his look, Much more than death: do not say-banishment.
Fri. Hence from Verona art thou banished:
Rom. There is no world without Verona walls,
Fri. O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness!
Rom. 'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here,
This is dear mercy,] The old copies read mere mercy, which in ancient language, signifies absolute mercy, 2 - More validity, More honourable state, more courtship lives
In carrion flics, than Romeo:] Validity seems here to mean worth or dignity. By courtship, the author seems to mean, the