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| Nurse |
[Within] Let me come in, and you shall know |
| Friar Lawrence |
Welcome, then. |
| Nurse |
O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar, |
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Where is my lady's lord, where's Romeo? |
| Friar Lawrence |
There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk. |
| Nurse |
O, he is even in my mistress' case, |
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Just in her case! O woful sympathy! |
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Piteous predicament! Even so lies she, |
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Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering. |
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Stand up, stand up; stand, and you be a man: |
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For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand; |
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Why should you fall into so deep an O? |
| Nurse |
Ah sir! ah sir! Well, death's the end of all. |
| Romeo |
Spakest thou of Juliet? how is it with her? |
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Doth she not think me an old murderer, |
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Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy |
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With blood removed but little from her own? |
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Where is she? and how doth she? and what says |
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My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love? |
| Nurse |
O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps; |
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And now falls on her bed; and then starts up, |
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And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries, |
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And then down falls again. |
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Shot from the deadly level of a gun, |
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Did murder her; as that name's cursed hand |
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Murder'd her kinsman. O, tell me, friar, tell me, |
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In what vile part of this anatomy |
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Doth my name lodge? tell me, that I may sack |
| Friar Lawrence |
Hold thy desperate hand: |
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Art thou a man? thy form cries out thou art: |
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Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denote |
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The unreasonable fury of a beast: |
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Unseemly woman in a seeming man! |
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Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both! |
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Thou hast amazed me: by my holy order, |
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I thought thy disposition better temper'd. |
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Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself? |
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And stay thy lady too that lives in thee, |
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By doing damned hate upon thyself? |
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Why rail'st thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth? |
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Since birth, and heaven, and earth, all three do meet |
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In thee at once; which thou at once wouldst lose. |
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Fie, fie, thou shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit; |
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Which, like a usurer, abound'st in all, |
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And usest none in that true use indeed |
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Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit: |
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Thy noble shape is but a form of wax, |
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Digressing from the valour of a man; |
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Thy dear love sworn but hollow perjury, |
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Killing that love which thou hast vow'd to cherish; |
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Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love, |
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Misshapen in the conduct of them both, |
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Like powder in a skitless soldier's flask, |
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Is set afire by thine own ignorance, |
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And thou dismember'd with thine own defence. |
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What, rouse thee, man! thy Juliet is alive, |
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For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead; |
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There art thou happy: Tybalt would kill thee, |
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But thou slew'st Tybalt; there are thou happy too: |
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The law that threaten'd death becomes thy friend |
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And turns it to exile; there art thou happy: |
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A pack of blessings lights up upon thy back; |
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Happiness courts thee in her best array; |
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But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench, |
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Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love: |
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Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable. |
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Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed, |
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Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her: |
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But look thou stay not till the watch be set, |
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For then thou canst not pass to Mantua; |
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Where thou shalt live, till we can find a time |
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To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends, |
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Beg pardon of the prince, and call thee back |
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With twenty hundred thousand times more joy |
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Than thou went'st forth in lamentation. |
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Go before, nurse: commend me to thy lady; |
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And bid her hasten all the house to bed, |
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Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto: |
| Nurse |
O Lord, I could have stay'd here all the night |
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To hear good counsel: O, what learning is! |
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My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come. |
| Romeo |
Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide. |
| Nurse |
Here, sir, a ring she bid me give you, sir: |
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Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late. |
| Romeo |
How well my comfort is revived by this! |
| Friar Lawrence |
Go hence; good night; and here stands all your state: |
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Either be gone before the watch be set, |
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Or by the break of day disguised from hence: |
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Sojourn in Mantua; I'll find out your man, |
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And he shall signify from time to time |
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Every good hap to you that chances here: |
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Give me thy hand; 'tis late: farewell; good night. |
| Romeo |
But that a joy past joy calls out on me, |
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It were a grief, so brief to part with thee: Farewell. |
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