him eyes. I am slain! [_Falls._] If thou art banished. ROMEO. Yet banished? Hang up philosophy. Unless philosophy can make a desperate man. Fly hence and leave me. Think upon these years That you are happy in this rage, with some great kinsman’s bone, As with a basket. FRIAR LAWRENCE. [_Aside._] I would that Thursday were tomorrow. CAPULET. Well, get you gone. A Thursday be it then. Go