Romeo. How should they, [when that] wise men have no eyes?
Friar Laurence. Let me [dispute] with thee of thy estate.
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. [Knocking within.