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BOMEO AND JULIET. 85 Nurse. Ah sir ! ah sir! Well, death's the end of all. Borneo. Spak'st thou of Juliet ? hoAV is it with her ? Doth she not think me an old murderer, Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy With blood remov'd but little from her own ? Where is she ? and how doth she ? and what says My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love ? Nui'se. 0, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps ; And now falls on her bed ; and then starts up, And Tybalt calls ; and then on Eomeo cries, And then down falls again. Romeo. As if that name, Shot from the deadly level of a gun, Did murder her ; as that name's cursed hand Murdered her kinsman. — 0, tell me, friar, tell me. In what vile part of this anatomy Doth my name lodge ? tell me, that I may sack The hateful mansion. \_Draioin(j his sivord. Friar Laurence. Hold thy desperate hand ! Art thou a man ? thy form cries out thou art : 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, I thought thy disposition better temper'd. Hast thou slain Tybalt ? wilt thou slay thyself ?