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| Friar Lawrence |
Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man: |
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Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts, |
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And thou art wedded to calamity. |
| Romeo |
Father, what news? what is the prince's doom? |
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What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand, |
| Friar Lawrence |
Too familiar |
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Is my dear son with such sour company: |
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I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom. |
| Romeo |
What less than dooms-day is the prince's doom? |
| Friar Lawrence |
A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips, |
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Not body's death, but body's banishment. |
| Romeo |
Ha, banishment! be merciful, say 'death;' |
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For exile hath more terror in his look, |
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Much more than death: do not say 'banishment.' |
| Friar Lawrence |
Hence from Verona art thou banished: |
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Be patient, for the world is broad and wide. |
| Romeo |
There is no world without Verona walls, |
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But purgatory, torture, hell itself. |
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Hence-banished is banish'd from the world, |
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And world's exile is death: then banished, |
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Is death mis-term'd: calling death banishment, |
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Thou cutt'st my head off with a golden axe, |
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And smilest upon the stroke that murders me. |
| Friar Lawrence |
O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness! |
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Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind prince, |
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Taking thy part, hath rush'd aside the law, |
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And turn'd that black word death to banishment: |
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This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not. |
| Romeo |
'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here, |
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Where Juliet lives; and every cat and dog |
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And little mouse, every unworthy thing, |
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Live here in heaven and may look on her; |
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But Romeo may not: more validity, |
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More honourable state, more courtship lives |
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In carrion-flies than Romeo: they my seize |
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On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand |
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And steal immortal blessing from her lips, |
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Who even in pure and vestal modesty, |
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Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin; |
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But Romeo may not; he is banished: |
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Flies may do this, but I from this must fly: |
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They are free men, but I am banished. |
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And say'st thou yet that exile is not death? |
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Hadst thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground knife, |
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No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean, |
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But 'banished' to kill me?--'banished'? |
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O friar, the damned use that word in hell; |
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Howlings attend it: how hast thou the heart, |
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Being a divine, a ghostly confessor, |
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A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd, |
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To mangle me with that word 'banished'? |
| Friar Lawrence |
Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak a word. |
| Romeo |
O, thou wilt speak again of banishment. |
| Friar Lawrence |
I'll give thee armour to keep off that word: |
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Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy, |
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To comfort thee, though thou art banished. |
| Romeo |
Yet 'banished'? Hang up philosophy! |
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Unless philosophy can make a Juliet, |
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Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom, |
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It helps not, it prevails not: talk no more. |
| Friar Lawrence |
O, then I see that madmen have no ears. |
| Romeo |
How should they, when that wise men have no eyes? |
| Friar Lawrence |
Let me dispute with thee of thy estate. |
| Romeo |
Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel: |
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Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love, |
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An hour but married, Tybalt murdered, |
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Doting like me and like me banished, |
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Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair, |
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And fall upon the ground, as I do now, |
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Taking the measure of an unmade grave. |
| Friar Lawrence |
Arise; one knocks; good Romeo, hide thyself. |
| Romeo |
Not I; unless the breath of heartsick groans, |
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Mist-like, infold me from the search of eyes. |
| Friar Lawrence |
Hark, how they knock! Who's there? Romeo, arise; |
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Thou wilt be taken. Stay awhile! Stand up; |
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Run to my study. By and by! God's will, |
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What simpleness is this! I come, I come! |
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Who knocks so hard? whence come you? what's your will? |
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