They are free men, but I am banished.
And sayst 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, 44
But 'banished' to kill me? 'Banished!'
O friar! the damned use that word in hell;
Howlings attend it: how hast thou the heart,
Being a divine, a ghostly confessor, 48
A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd,
To mangle me with that word 'banished?'
Fri. L. Thou fond mad man, hear me a little speak.
Rom. O! thou wilt speak again of banishment. 52
Fri. L. I'll give thee armour to keep off that word;
Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy,
To comfort thee, though thou art banished.
Rom. Yet 'banished!' Hang up philosophy!
Unless philosophy can make a Juliet, 57
Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom,
It helps not, it prevails not: talk no more.
Fri. L. O! then I see that madmen have no ears. 60
Rom. How should they, when that wise men have no eyes?
Fri. L. Let me dispute with thee of thy estate.
Rom. Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel:
Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love, 64
An hour but married, Tybalt murdered,
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, 68
44 mean: means
so mean: so base
51 fond: foolish
62 dispute: discuss
estate: condition
