Now, you have decided to come here. Why? To make a choice. To make a choice of whether you live, or whether you will, as all mankind must, die. It is torture, and not mercy. Heaven is here, where you are, and every cat, dog, and mouse, every unworthy thing.. live here in heaven, and my look on them.. but I may not. More validity...more, honorable state... more courtship lives in carrion flies than I! They may seize on the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand, who, even in pure and vestal modesty still blush!... as thinking their own kisses sin... but I may not. Flies may do this, but I from this must fly.. And sayest thou yet that exile is not death? Hast thou no poisoned mix...no sharp-ground knife... no sudden means of death, though ne'er so mean, but banished to kill me? Banished? O Friar, the damned use that word in hell! How hast thou the heart?
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