Scene III

Friar Laurence's Cell.

[Enter Friar Laurence]

FRIAR:

Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man.
Affliction is enamour’d of thy parts,
And thou art wedded to calamity.

FRIAR:

Romeo, come here; come here, you fearful man.
Affliction is in love of your parts,
And you are married to calamity.

Enter Romeo.

ROM:

Father, what news? What is the Prince's doom?
What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand(5)
That I yet know not?

ROM:

Father, what news? What is the prince's sentence?
What sorrow craves to know me at my hand,
That I don’t know yet?

FRIAR:

Too familiar
Is my dear son with such sour company.
I bring thee tidings of the Prince's doom.

FRIAR:

My dear son is
Too familiar with such sour company.
I bring you news of the prince's sentence.

ROM:

What less than doomsday is the Prince's doom?(10)

ROM:

What less than the end of the world is the prince's sentence?

FRIAR:

A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips—
Not body's death, but body's banishment.

FRIAR:

A gentler judgment vanished from his lips,
Not your body's death, but your 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.’(15)

ROM:

What, banishment? be merciful, say death;
For exile has more terror in his look,
Much more than death; do not say banishment.

FRIAR:

Hence from Verona art thou banished.
Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.

FRIAR:

You are banished away from Verona.
Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.

ROM:

There is no world without Verona walls,
But purgatory, torture, hell itself.
Hence banished is banish'd from the world,(20)
And world's exile is death. Then ‘banishment’
Is death misterm'd. Calling death ‘banishment,’
Thou cut'st my head off with a golden axe
And smilest upon the stroke that murders me.

ROM:

There is no world without Verona walls,
Only purgatory, torture, hell itself.
Banished away from here is banished from the world,
And world's exile is death, then “banished”
Is death misnamed. Calling death banishment,
You cut my head off with a golden axe,
And smile on the stroke that murders me.

FRIAR:

O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness!(25)
Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind Prince,
Taking thy part, hath rush'd aside the law,
And turn'd that black word death to banishment.
This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not.

FRIAR:

O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness!
Your fault our law calls death; but the kind prince,
Taking your part, has brushed aside the law,
And turned that black word “death” to banishment.
This is dear mercy, and you don’t see it.

ROM:

'Tis torture, and not mercy. Heaven is here,(30)
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,
More honourable state, more courtship lives(35)
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;(40)
But Romeo may not— he is banished.
This may flies do, when I from this must fly;
They are free men, but I am banished.
And sayest thou yet that exile is not death?
Hadst thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground knife,(45)
No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean,
But ‘banished’ to kill me—‘banished’?
O friar, the damned use that word in hell;
Howling attends it! How hast thou the heart,
Being a divine, a ghostly confessor,(50)
A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd,
To mangle me with that word ‘banished’?

ROM:

It’s 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 legal authority,
More honorable state, more courtship lives
In flies on dead meat 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 banished.
Flies may do this, when I must fly from this.
And you still say that exile is not death!
Have you no poison mixed, no sharp-ground knife,
No sudden means of death, though never so low,
Only “banished” to kill me, “banished?”
O friar, the damned use that word in hell.
Animals who howl consider it. How have you the heart,
Being a divine, a ghostly confessor,
A sin-absolver, and my openly acknowledged friend,
To mangle me with that word “banishment?”

FRIAR:

Thou fond mad man, hear me a little speak.

FRIAR:

You spoiled madman, hear me speak a little.

ROM:

O, thou wilt speak again of banishment.

ROM:

O, you will speak again of banishment.

FRIAR:

I'll give thee armour to keep off that word;(55)
Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy,
To comfort thee, though thou art banished.

FRIAR:

I'll give you armor to fight off that word.
Problems’ sweet milk, philosophy,
To comfort you, though you are banished.

ROM:

Yet ‘banished’? Hang up philosophy!
Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,
Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom,(60)
It helps not, it prevails not. Talk no more.

ROM:

Again “banished?” Stop with the philosophy!
Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,
Uproot a town, reverse a prince's sentence,
It doesn’t help, it doesn’t succeed. Talk no more.

FRIAR:

O, then I see that madmen have no ears.

FRIAR:

O, then I see that madmen have no ears.

ROM:

How should they, when that wise men have no eyes?

ROM:

How should they, when wise men have no eyes?

FRIAR:

Let me dispute with thee of thy estate.

FRIAR:

Let me argue with you about your situation.

ROM:

Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel.(65)
Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
An hour but married, Tybalt murdered,
Doting like me, and like me banished,
Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair,
And fall upon the ground, as I do now,(70)
Taking the measure of an unmade grave.

ROM:

You can’t speak about something you don’t feel.
If you were as young as I, Juliet your love,
Married only an hour, Tybalt murdered,
Foolish like me, and, like me, banished,
Then you might speak, then you might tear your hair,
And fall upon the ground, as I do now,
Thinking about an unmade grave.

Knock within.

FRIAR:

Arise; one knocks. Good Romeo, hide thyself.

FRIAR:

Get up. Some one knocks. Good Romeo, hide yourself.

ROM:

Not I; unless the breath of heartsick groans,
Mist-like infold me from the search of eyes.

ROM:

Not I; unless the breath of heartsick groans,
Like a mist wraps me up and hides me from the search of eyes.

Knock.

FRIAR:

Hark, how they knock! Who's there? Romeo, arise;(75)
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?

FRIAR:

Listen, how they knock! Who's there? Romeo, get up.
You’ll be taken prisoner. Wait a while. Stand up. Run to my study. By-and-by! God's will!
What ignorance this is! I’m coming, I’m coming! Who knocks so hard? Where do you come from? What do you want?

NURSE:

Within.

Let me come in, and you shall know my(80)
errand. I come from Lady Juliet.

NURSE:

Let me come in, and you shall know my errand;
I come from Lady Juliet.

FRIAR:

Welcome, then.

FRIAR:

Welcome then.

Enter Nurse.

NURSE:

O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar,
Where is my lady's lord, where's Romeo?

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.(85)

FRIAR:

There on the ground, made drunk with his own tears.

NURSE:

O, he is even in my mistress’ case,
Just in her case!

NURSE:

O, it’s the same in my mistress' case,
Just in her case!

FRIAR:

O woeful sympathy!
Piteous predicament!

FRIAR:

O sad sympathy!
Pitiful situation!

NURSE:

Even so lies she,(90)
Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering.
Stand up, stand up! Stand, an you be a man.
For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand!
Why should you fall into so deep an O?

NURSE:

She lies the same way,
Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering.
Stand up, stand up; stand, if you’re a man.
For Juliet's sake, for her sake, get up and stand up;
Why should you fall into so deep an “O?”

ROM:

Rises.

Nurse—(95)

ROM:

Nurse!

NURSE:

Ah sir! ah sir! Well, death's the end of all.

NURSE:

Ah sir! ah sir! Well, death's the end of us all.

ROM:

Spakest thou of Juliet? How is it with her?
Doth not she think me an old murderer,
Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy
With blood remov'd but little from her own?(100)
Where is she? and how doth she? and what says
My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love?

ROM:

Did you speak of Juliet? How is it with her?
Doesn’t she think I’m an old murderer,
Now I have stained the beginning of our joy
With blood from a close relative?
Where is she? And how is she doing? And what says
My hidden 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,(105)
And then down falls again.

NURSE:

O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps;
And now falls on her bed; and then starts up,
And calls Tybalt, and then cries over Romeo,
And then falls down again.

ROM:

As if that name,
Shot from the deadly level of a gun,
Did murder her; as that name's cursed hand
Murdered her kinsman. O, tell me, friar, tell me,(110)
In what vile part of this anatomy
Doth my name lodge? Tell me, that I may sack
The hateful mansion.

ROM:

As if that name of Romeo,
Shot from the deadly level of a gun,
Murdered her the same way as that name's cursed hand
Murdered her kinsman. O, tell me, friar, tell me,
In what vile part of this anatomy
Does my name live? Tell me, that I may rip
The hateful mansion apart.

Draws his dagger.

FRIAR:

Hold thy desperate hand.
Art thou a man? Thy form cries out thou art;(115)
Thy tears are womanish, thy wild acts denote
The unreasonable fury of a beast.
Unseemly woman in a seeming man!
Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both!
Thou hast amaz'd me. By my holy order,(120)
I thought thy disposition better temper'd.
Hast thou slain Tybalt? Wilt thou slay thyself?
And slay thy lady that in thy life lives,
By doing damned hate upon thyself?
Why railest thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth?(125)
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(130)
Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit.
Thy noble shape is but a form of wax
Digressing from the valour of a man;
Thy dear love sworn but hollow perjury,
Killing that love which thou hast vow'd to cherish;(135)
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 defence.(140)
What, rouse thee, man! Thy Juliet is alive,
For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead.
There art thou happy. Tybalt would kill thee,
But thou slewest Tybalt. There art thou happy too.
The law, that threat'ned death, becomes thy friend(145)
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 misbhav'd and sullen wench,
Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love.(150)
Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable.
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,(155)
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.(160)
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.

FRIAR:

Hold your desperate hand.
Are you a man? your body cries out you are;
Your tears are womanish; your wild acts resemble
The unreasonable fury of a beast;
Unseemly woman in a seeming man!
Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both!
You have amazed me. by my holy order,
I thought your disposition was of a better temper.
Have you killed Tybalt? Will you kill yourself?
And kill your lady, too, who lives in you,
By doing damned hate to yourself?
Why do you complain about your birth, the heaven, and earth?
Since birth is heaven and heaven is earth, all three meet
In you at once, which you would lose at once.
For shame, for shame! You shame your shape, your love, your wit,
Which, like a loan shark, abounds in all of us,
And you use nothing in that true use indeed
Which should decorate your shape, your love, your wit.
Your noble shape is only a form of wax,
Deviating from the valor of a man;
Your dear love sworn is empty lies,
Killing that love which you have vowed to cherish;
Your wit, that ornament to shape and love,
Disfigured in the conduct of them both,
Like powder in a recruit soldier's flask,
Is set a-fire by your own ignorance,
And you dismembered by your own defense.
What, wake up, man! Your Juliet is alive,
For whose dear sake you were but lately dead;
There you are lucky. Tybalt would have killed you,
But you killed Tybalt. There you are lucky too.
The law that threatened you with death becomes your friend
And turns it into exile. There you are lucky.
A pack of blessings settles on your back.
Happiness courts you in her best array;
But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench,
You pout about your luck and your love.
Pay attention, pay attention, for such people die miserable.
Go, go to your love, as was decreed,
Ascend to her chamber there, and comfort her.
But, be careful that you don’t stay after the guards are in place,
Because then, you cannot get to Mantua,
Where you shall live until we can find a time
To publicize your marriage, reconcile your friends,
Beg pardon of the prince, and call you back
With twenty hundred thousand times more joy
Than you left here in grief.
Go before, nurse. Commend me to thy lady;
And bid her to hurry the whole house to bed,
Which heavy sorrow makes them more likely to do.
Romeo is coming.

NURSE:

O Lord, I could have stay'd here all the night(165)
To hear good counsel. O, what learning is!
My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come.

NURSE:

O Lord, I could have stayed here all the night
To hear good counsel. O, what a great thing learning is!
My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come.

ROM:

Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide.

ROM:

Do so, and bid my sweet to prepare to scold me.

NURSE:

Here is a ring she bid me give you, sir.
Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late.(170)

Exit.

NURSE:

Here, sir, is a ring she asked me give you, sir.
Hurry up, make haste, for it grows very late.

ROM:

How well my comfort is reviv'd by this!

ROM:

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 disguis'd from hence.
Sojourn in Mantua. I'll find out your man,(175)
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.

FRIAR:

Go there. Good night! And here is your situation.
Either be gone before the guards are in place,
Or, by the break of day, run away, disguised, from here.
Travel to Mantua. I'll contact your man,
And he shall bring, from time to time,
News to you of every good event that happens here.
Give me your hand. It’s late. Farewell. Good night.

ROM:

But that a joy past joy calls out on me,
It were a grief so brief to part with thee.(180)
Farewell.

Exeunt.

ROM:

Only that a joy beyond joy calls out to me,
It’s a grief so brief to part with you.
Farewell.