FRIAR Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself,
And slay thy lady that in thy life lives,
By doing damnèd hate upon thyself?
Why rail’st thou on thy birth? the heaven and earth?
Since birth, and heaven, and earth, all three do meet
In thee at once, which thou at once wouldst lose.
Fie, fie, thou sham’st thy shape, thy love, thy wit,
Which like a usurer abound’st in all,
And usest none in that true use indeed
Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit: (3.3.116-125)
As I’ve already observed – and may have cause to observe again – this is the longest speech in the play. I am assuming that it’s usually cut to the bone, for reasons of pace, and also because modern audiences presumably have a lower threshold of toleration for closely argued logical arguments against suicide. But – perhaps a lame observation – it’s striking how much prominence and weight this material and these concerns have here. What work is this speech doing? Why’s it here? It does emphasise that this is all, quite literally, a matter of life and death, and that the Friar is taking Romeo’s threats seriously (and taking Romeo himself seriously; you don’t waste such a long and involved argument on a light-weight); he takes so long to engage with what’s at stake here, and in such forensic detail. We might find it tedious, but this is how the Friar operates, and we have to assume that he expects Romeo to be responsive to this more intellectual approach; that is, he’s not just saying, suicide is a sin, but breaking it down as an emotional and intellectual proposition. You’ve already slain Tybalt; that’s bad enough. If you kill yourself, then you’ll kill Juliet too. There’s no point railing against everything, your name, your birth, your parentage, the divine, the earthly, God, life: you are who you are, uniquely you; if you killed yourself, you wouldn’t just lose your life, you’d lose your name, your reputation, and your soul, as well as your life. You would lose absolutely everything. You are a fine young man (a proper man, the Nurse might say); you’re intelligent; you love Juliet and she loves you (you would shame her too, thy love here meaning both the strength of your own feelings and the person you love). You have so many things going for you – your personal qualities (not least your good looks – but also your love for Juliet, and your intelligence, your wit) but like a usurer you don’t make use of them. Make the best of things, do what you can, you can get through this. Count your blessings, stop being so passive and fatalistic; you’re better than that.
