_Rom_: Thou canst not speak of what thou dost not feele. Wert thou as young as I, _Iuliet_ thy Loue, An houre but married, _Tybalt_ murdred. Doting like me, and like me banished, Then mightst thou speake, then mightst thou teare thy hayre. 65 And fall vpon the ground as I doe now, Taking the measure of an vnmade graue. _Nurse knockes._ _Fr_: R_omeo_ arise, stand vp thou wilt be taken, I heare one knocke, arise and get thee gone. _Nu_: Hoe Fryer. 70 _Fr_: Gods will what wilfulnes is this? _Shee knockes againe._ _Nur_: Hoe Fryer open the doore, _Fr_: By and by I come. Who is there? _Nur_: One from Lady _Iuliet_. _Fr_: Then come neare. 75 _Nur_: Oh holy Fryer, tell mee oh holy Fryer, Where is my Ladies Lord? Wher's R_omeo_? _Fr_: There on the ground, with his owne teares made drunke. _Nur_: Oh he is euen in my Mistresse case. 80 Iust in her case. Oh wofull simpathy, Pitteous predicament, euen so lyes shee, Weeping and blubbring, blubbring and weeping: Stand vp, stand vp, stand and you be a man. For _Iuliets_ sake, for her sake rise and stand, 85 Why should you fall into so deep an _O._ _He rises._ _Romeo_: Nurse. _Nur_: Ah sir, ah sir. Wel death's the end of all. _Rom_: Spakest thou of _Iuliet_, how is it with her? Doth she not thinke me an olde murderer, 90 Now I haue stainde the childhood of her ioy, With bloud remou'd but little from her owne? Where is she? and how doth she? And what sayes My conceal'd Lady to our canceld loue? _Nur_: Oh she saith nothing, but weepes and pules, 95 And now fals on her bed, now on the ground, And _Tybalt_ cryes, and then on _Romeo_ calles. _Rom_: As if that name shot from the deadly leuel of a gun Did murder her, as that names cursed hand Murderd her kinsman. Ah tell me holy Fryer 100 In what vile part of this Anatomy Doth my name lye? Tell me that I may sacke The hatefull mansion? _He offers to stab himselfe, and Nurse snatches_ _the dagger away._ _Nur_: Ah?