Page 3205 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1
P. 3205
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. [40]
Flies may do this, but I from this must fly.
They are free men but I am banished.
And say’st thou yet that exile is not death?
Hadst thou no poison mix’d, no sharp-ground knife,
No sudden mean of death, though ne’er so mean, [45]
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,
A sin-absolver, and my friend profess’d, [50]
To mangle me with that word ‘banished’?
FRIAR LAURENCE
Thou fond mad man, hear me a little speak.
ROMEO
O, thou wilt speak again of banishment.
FRIAR LAURENCE
I’ll give thee armour to keep off that word,
Adversity’s sweet milk, philosophy, [55]
To comfort thee though thou art banished.
ROMEO
Yet ‘banished’? Hang up philosophy.
Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,
Displant a town, reverse a Prince’s doom,
It helps not, it prevails not. Talk no more. [60]
FRIAR LAURENCE
O, then I see that mad men have no ears.
ROMEO
How should they when that wise men have no eyes?
