Too flattering-sweet to be substantial.

JULIET. Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed. If that thy bent of love be honorable,

Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow,

By one that I'll procure to come to thee,
Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite;
And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay,

And follow thee, my lord, throughout the world.

Young in years though she was, love had, in a flash, as it were, transformed Juliet into a woman. Hence this unreserved surrender of herself. She knew that family pride would forbid an open marriage with one of the hated Montagues; therefore, in order to be true to the holy love which possessed her soul, she felt that she must act for herself, without consulting her parents. The only person whom Juliet could trust with her secret. was an old nurse who was wholly devoted to her interest. This was the messenger whom she resolved to send to Romeo in the morning.

Before retiring, however, Juliet went again to the window, hoping for one more word with her lover. She was not disappointed, for Romeo still lingered, longing to hear her sweet voice once again. As she called his name, quickly came the response:

It is my soul that calls upon my name ;

How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night,

Like softest music to attending ears!

JULIET. Romeo, at what o'clock to-morrow
Shall I send to thee?

ROMEO.

At the hour of nine.

JULIET. I will not fail; 'tis twenty years till then.

I have forgot why I did call thee back.

ROMEO. Let me stand here till thou remember it.

JULIET. I shall forget, to have thee still stand there,
Remembering how I love thy company.

Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow,
That I shall say good night till it be morrow.

ROMEO. Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast!

When Romeo left Juliet, he at once repaired to the cell of a certain Friar Laurence, who was father-confessor for both families. It was now early morning, and the good friar was already astir gathering herbs. As he worked, he thus communed with himself:

O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies

In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities!
For naught so vile that on the earth doth live
But to the earth some special good doth give ;
Nor aught so good but, strained from that fair use,
Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse.
Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied,
And vice sometime's by action dignified.
Within the infant rind of this weak flower
Poison hath residence, and medicine power;
Two such opposéd kings encamp them still

In man as well as herbs, — grace and rude will.

The friar's reflections were interrupted by Romeo, who sought him for advice and assistance in the matter of his proposed marriage with the daughter of his enemy. Friar Laurence consented to unite the lovers, hoping that their union would result in healing the feud. In the afternoon of that same day, therefore, Romeo and Juliet were wedded with the blessing of the church.

The fiery Tybalt, whom his Uncle Capulet had restrained from summarily chastising Romeo for appearing at the ball, was determined to punish the rash youth at his first opportunity. Late that day, after Romeo's marriage rites had been celebrated, the opportunity came. Benvolio and Mercutio, partisans of the Montagues, were passing along the street, when they encountered Tybalt, who inquired where he could find Romeo. Even as he spoke, Romeo came in sight. Tybalt at once accosted him in a violent manner, saying:

Romeo, the hate I bear thee can afford

No better term than this, thou art a villain.

Romeo returned a mild answer, for now that Juliet was his wife, he desired to avoid quarrelling with any of the Capulets. Tybalt refused to be pacified, however, and Mercutio took the quarrel upon himself. In the sword-fencing that followed, Mercutio was mortally wounded. This bloody deed Romeo felt that it was his duty to avenge. He argued :—

This gentleman, the prince's near ally,
My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt

In my behalf; my reputation stained

With Tybalt's slander; — Tybalt, that an hour
Hath been my cousin! — O sweet Juliet,

Thy beauty hath made me effeminate,

And in my temper softened valor's steel!

The sight of Tybalt triumphing over Mercutio slain aroused his fury, and he shouted :·

Now, Tybalt, take the "villain" back again
That late thou gav'st me! for Mercutio's soul
Is but a little way above our heads,

Staying for thine to keep him company;

Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him.

TYBALT. Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him here, Shalt with him hence.

This proved a vain boast, for it was Tybalt, not Romeo, who was slain in the duel. Romeo had barely escaped, at the entreaty of his friend Benvolio, when the prince, together with the heads of the two rival houses, appeared upon the scene. Benvolio related truthfully all that had happened, and since, in slaying Tybalt, Romeo had avenged the death of Mercutio, the kinsman of the prince, his punishment was made exile, instead of death. The prince sternly told Capulet and Montague:

My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding;
I will be deaf to pleading and excuses;
Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses:
Therefore use none; let Romeo hence in haste,
Else, when he's found, that hour is his last.
Bear hence this body, and attend our will;
Mercy but murthers, pardoning those that kill.

Romeo had fled to Friar Laurence for protection, but when that faithful friend brought him word of the prince's sentence, telling him :

Hence from Verona art thou banished;

Be patient, for the world is broad and wide:

instead of rejoicing that he had not been condemned

to death, Romeo thought of nothing but the separation from his bride. He bitterly bewailed his fate, saying:

'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here,
Where Juliet lives; and every cat and dog
And little mouse, every unworthy thing,
Live here in heaven, and may look on her,
But Romeo may not; he is banishéd.

And say'st thou yet that exile is not death?

Hadst thou no poison mixed, no sharp-ground knife,
No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean,
But "banished" to kill me?

FRIAR LAURENCE.

speak a word.

Thou fond mad man, hear me but

ROMEO. Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel.
Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
An hour but married, Tybalt murthered,
Doting like me and like me banished,

Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair,
And fall upon the ground, as I do now,

Taking the measure of an unmade grave.

At this moment a knock was heard. The newcomer proved to be Juliet's nurse, whom Juliet had sent to find her husband and to assure him of her undying love. At sight of the nurse, Romeo started up, inquiring in agonized tones what his lady said of him who had taken the life of her kinsman. The nurse replied:

O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps ;
And now falls on her bed; and then starts up,
And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries,
And then falls down again.

ROMEO.

As if that name,