Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man.
Affliction is enanmour’d of thy parts
And thou art wedded to calamity.
Romeo, come out; come out, you fearful man. Misery is attracted to your qualities And you are married to disaster.
Romeo, come on out; get out here, you scared guy. Sadness is in love with who you are And you've hitched yourself to bad luck.
romeo come out u scared guy sadness loves u u married disaster
Father, what news? What is the Prince’s doom?
What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand,
That I yet know not?
Father, what news? What is the Prince's sentence? What sorrow wants to know me, That I still don't understand?
Father, what have you heard? What's the Prince's ruling? What terrible thing is waiting for me That I haven't found out yet?
father what's the prince's sentence? what sorrow wants me? what haven't i heard yet?
Too familiar
Is my dear son with such sour company.
I bring thee tidings of the Prince’s doom.
My dear son knows too well How to keep such bitter company. I bring you word of the Prince's sentence.
My dear son, you're spending way too much time With sadness and misery. I'm here to tell you what the Prince decided.
my son ur too familiar with sadness i bring the prince's sentence
What less than doomsday is the Prince’s doom?
What could be worse than the end of all things as the Prince's sentence?
What could be worse than the Prince's verdict being the end of the world?
what's worse than doomsday from the prince?
A gentler judgment vanish’d from his lips,
Not body’s death, but body’s banishment.
A gentler ruling fell from his lips, Not death to the body, but banishment of the body.
He was actually merciful, He didn't sentence you to death, just exile.
he was kind not death just exile
Ha, banishment? Be merciful, say death;
For exile hath more terror in his look,
Much more than death. Do not say banishment.
Wait, exile? Please show mercy and say death instead; Because exile carries more terror, Much more than death. Don't say exile.
What, exile? Have mercy and just kill me; Because being driven out is way worse, Way worse than death. Don't say exile.
exile? just kill me exile is worse than death don't say exile
Hence from Verona art thou banished.
Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.
Therefore you are banished from Verona. Be patient, the world is vast and wide.
So you're banished from Verona. Just be patient, the world is huge.
ur banished from verona be patient the world is big
There is no world without Verona walls,
But purgatory, torture, hell itself.
Hence banished is banish’d from the world,
And world’s exile is death. Then banished
Is death misterm’d. Calling death banished,
Thou cutt’st my head off with a golden axe,
And smilest upon the stroke that murders me.
There is no world outside Verona's walls, But only torment, suffering, hell itself. Being banished from Verona is being banished from the world, And being exiled from the world is death. So being banished Is death with the wrong name on it. You call death by the name banishment, And cut my head off with a golden axe, And smile as the stroke murders me.
The world doesn't exist outside Verona's walls, It's all torture, agony, hell. If I'm kicked out of Verona, I'm kicked out of everything, And if I'm exiled from everything, that's death. So banishment Is really just death with a different name. You give death another word—banishment— And you behead me with a fancy golden axe, And smile while you do it.
world ends at verona walls no world outside banishment from verona is banishment from world world exile is death banishment is death with new name u cut my head with golden axe and smile
O deadly sin, O rude unthankfulness!
Thy fault our law calls death, but the kind Prince,
Taking thy part, hath brush’d aside the law,
And turn’d that black word death to banishment.
This is dear mercy, and thou see’st it not.
Oh horrible sin, oh rude ingratitude! Your crime under our law demands death, but the kind Prince, Taking your side, has set aside the law, And turned that terrible word death into banishment. This is precious mercy, and you refuse to see it.
Oh what a wicked sin, how ungrateful you are! Your crime deserves death according to the law, but the merciful Prince, Standing up for you, ignored the law, And changed that awful word death into exile. This is real mercy, and you can't even see it.
oh wicked sin oh ungrateful U deserve death but prince is kind he broke the law for u changed death to exile this is mercy u don't see it
’Tis torture, and not mercy. Heaven is here
Where Juliet lives, and every cat and dog,
And little mouse, every unworthy thing,
Live here in heaven and may look on her,
But Romeo may not. More validity,
More honourable state, more courtship lives
In carrion flies than Romeo. They may seize
On the white wonder of dear Juliet’s hand,
And steal immortal blessing from her lips,
Who, even in pure and vestal modesty
Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin.
But Romeo may not, he is banished.
This may flies do, when I from this must fly.
They are free men but I am banished.
And say’st 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,
But banished to kill me? Banished?
O Friar, the damned use that word in hell.
Howling attends it. How hast thou the heart,
Being a divine, a ghostly confessor,
A sin-absolver, and my friend profess’d,
To mangle me with that word banished?
This is torture, not mercy. Heaven exists here Where Juliet lives, and every cat and dog, And every tiny mouse, every worthless thing, Lives here in heaven and can see her, But Romeo cannot. More worth, More honorable state, more courtship exists In rotting flies than in Romeo. They can touch The white beauty of dear Juliet's hand, And steal a blessed kiss from her lips, Who, even in pure and chaste modesty Still blush, as if thinking their own kisses are sinful. But Romeo cannot; he is banished. This much the flies can do, while I must fly away. They are free men, but I am banished. And you still say exile is not death? Did you have no poison mixed, no sharp knife, No sudden way to kill, however quick, But to banish me to death? Banished? Oh Friar, the damned use that word in hell. Howling follows it. How can you have the heart, Being a holy man, a spiritual confessor, A forgiver of sins, and my friend, To torture me with that word banished?
This is torture, not mercy. Heaven is right here Where Juliet lives, and so are all the cats and dogs, And all the little mice, and every useless creature, They all live here in heaven and get to see her, But Romeo can't. Even more worth And honor and love Belongs to rotting flies than to Romeo. Those flies can grab Juliet's beautiful white hand, And steal her sweet kiss, When she's being so modest and pure She blushes, thinking even her own kiss is wrong. But I can't; I'm banished. Flies can do this while I have to flee. They're free men; I'm banished. And you say exile isn't death? Did you not have any poison mixed, no sharp blade, No quick death available, But to exile me to my grave? Exile? Oh Friar, the damned scream that word in hell. It comes with wailing. How can you, a holy man, a priest, A sin-forgiver, and my friend, Rip me apart with the word banished?
torture not mercy heaven is here where juliet is cats dogs mice all live there see her but romeo can't flies get more honor than me they touch her hand steal her kiss but i'm banished flies free i'm banished exile IS death u have no poison no knife just exile to kill me friar why u hurt me with that word
Friar Lawrence's long rebuke contains a remarkable moment: he accuses Romeo of being 'an unseemly woman in a seeming man.' In Elizabethan England, excessive weeping and collapse were gendered feminine — men were expected to endure, not dissolve. But Romeo's grief is genuine and proportionate. Shakespeare sets up a tension: the culture codes Romeo's breakdown as shameful, but the play shows us that Romeo's love for Juliet is the only thing in his life worth this magnitude of grief. The Friar's lecture is practically correct — get up, go to her, leave for Mantua — but emotionally it misses what Romeo already understands: his world has ended regardless of whether he escapes Verona. The physical ring from Juliet accomplishes in one second what forty lines of philosophy couldn't.
Thou fond mad man, hear me speak a little,
You foolish angry man, listen while I speak a little,
You crazy guy, just hear me out for a second,
u mad man listen to me
O, thou wilt speak again of banishment.
Oh, you will only speak again of exile.
Oh, you're just going to say exile again.
u gonna say exile again
I’ll give thee armour to keep off that word,
Adversity’s sweet milk, philosophy,
To comfort thee, though thou art banished.
I'll give you a defense against that word, Adversity's sweet remedy, philosophy, To comfort you, though you are exiled.
I'll give you weapons to fight that word, Adversity's sweet medicine—philosophy— To help you, even though you're banished.
i'll give u armor against that word philosophy to comfort u tho u're banished
Yet banished? Hang up philosophy.
Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,
Displant a town, reverse a Prince’s doom,
It helps not, it prevails not, talk no more.
Still exile? Forget philosophy. Unless philosophy can create a Juliet, Move a city, overturn a Prince's ruling, It doesn't help, it doesn't matter, say no more.
Exile still? Throw philosophy out the window. Unless philosophy can make me a Juliet, Move Verona, change the Prince's mind, It's useless, it won't work, stop talking.
still exile? forget philosophy unless it makes juliet makes a city moves the prince it's useless stop
O, then I see that mad men have no ears.
Oh, now I see that angry men do not listen.
Oh, I see now—crazy people don't hear anything.
mad men don't listen
How should they, when that wise men have no eyes?
How can they, when wise men do not see?
How can they, when smart people are blind?
how can they when wise men don't see
Let me dispute with thee of thy estate.
Let me talk with you about your situation.
Let me discuss your circumstances with you.
let me talk about ur situation
Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel.
Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
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,
Taking the measure of an unmade grave.
You cannot speak of what you do not feel. If you were as young as me, Juliet your love, Married only an hour ago, Tybalt murdered, Loving like me, and banished like me, Then you could speak, then you could tear your hair, And throw yourself on the ground as I do now, Measuring out an unmarked grave.
You can't talk about pain you haven't experienced. If you were my age, with Juliet as your love, Just married an hour, and Tybalt's been killed, Crazy in love like me, and kicked out like me, Then you could speak, then you could pull your hair out, And throw yourself to the ground like I'm doing, Laying out dimensions for your own grave.
u can't speak what u don't feel if u were my age with juliet married an hour tybalt dead loving like me banished like me then u could tear ur hair throw urself down measure ur grave
Arise; one knocks. Good Romeo, hide thyself.
Get up; someone is knocking. Good Romeo, hide yourself.
Come on, get up; somebody's knocking. Romeo, hide now.
get up someone's knocking hide
Not I, unless the breath of heartsick groans
Mist-like infold me from the search of eyes.
Not me, unless my heartbroken sighs Wrap me like mist from sight.
No way, unless my desperate groans Can cover me like fog.
not unless my sighs hide me like mist
Friar Lawrence's plan is actually coherent: Romeo spends one night with Juliet, leaves at dawn for Mantua, the Friar works to get the marriage publicly announced and the Prince's pardon arranged, then Romeo returns. The problem is that the plan has no redundancy. It depends entirely on one communication channel: the Friar's letters reaching Romeo in Mantua. There's no backup. No way for Romeo to independently verify what's happening. No trusted third party. The plan also requires secrecy at every stage — which means Juliet's family has no idea what's being arranged. When the chain breaks at a single link (the plague quarantine of Act 5), the whole plan collapses instantly. The Friar is good at crisis management but terrible at risk management.
Hark, how they knock!—Who’s there?—Romeo, arise,
Thou wilt be taken.—Stay awhile.—Stand up.
Listen, how they pound!—Who is it?—Romeo, come on, You will be caught.—Wait a moment.—Stand up.
Hear that pounding!—Who's there?—Romeo, get up, You're going to be caught.—Hold on.—Come on, stand.
hear the knocking romeo get up u'll be caught stand up
Run to my study.—By-and-by.—God’s will,
What simpleness is this.—I come, I come.
Run to my study. In a moment. Good God, what foolishness is this. I'm coming, I'm coming.
Get to my study. I'll be there in a second. What a mess. I'm coming, I'm coming.
go to the study hang on im coming what is happening
Who knocks so hard? Whence come you, what’s your will?
Who's knocking so hard? Where are you from, and what do you want?
Who's out there banging like that? Where are you from? What do you need?
who is it where u from what do u want
[_Within._] Let me come in, and you shall know my errand.
I come from Lady Juliet.
Let me come in, and you will know my reason for being here. I come from Lady Juliet.
Let me in, and I'll explain why I'm here. I'm coming from Juliet.
let me in im from juliet have news 4 u
Welcome then.
Welcome then.
welcome then.
welcome then.
O holy Friar, O, tell me, holy Friar,
Where is my lady’s lord, where’s Romeo?
Oh holy Friar, oh, tell me, holy Friar, Where is my lady's husband, where is Romeo?
Oh Friar, oh holy Friar, tell me, Where is my mistress's husband, where's Romeo?
oh holy friar where's my lady's lord where's romeo
There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk.
Lying on the ground, his body soaked with the tears he's shed.
Right there on the floor, drowning in his own tears.
on the ground drunk on his own tears
O, he is even in my mistress’ case.
Just in her case! O woeful sympathy!
Piteous predicament. Even so lies she,
Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering.
Stand up, stand up; stand, and you be a man.
For Juliet’s sake, for her sake, rise and stand.
Why should you fall into so deep an O?
Oh, he is even in the same condition as my mistress. Just like her! Oh what a matching sorrow! What a sad situation. He lies just the same way, Sobbing and crying, crying and sobbing. Get up, get up; stand, and be a man. For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand. Why are you falling into such a deep groan?
Oh, he's in the exact same state as my mistress. Just like her! Oh this matching tragedy! What a pitiful sight. He's lying exactly the same, Wailing and weeping, weeping and wailing. Stand up, stand up; be strong and act like a man. For Juliet's sake, for her sake, get up and stand. Why are you falling into such deep despair?
he's like my mistress same condition just like her matching sorrow he's sobbing weeping weeping sobbing get up be a man for juliet stand up why u falling into despair
Nurse.
Nurse.
nurse.
nurse.
The repeated knocking during this scene — four separate instances — creates an auditory pressure on the audience. Every knock is a possible threat, a reminder that Romeo is a hunted man hiding in a priest's cell. Shakespeare uses the knocks to structure the scene: first knock pulls Friar and Romeo out of their philosophical argument; second knock accelerates the need for Romeo to hide; third knock breaks the rhythm just when they're settling; fourth knock announces the Nurse. In the original Globe Theatre, performed in daylight, with minimal set, sound was a primary dramatic tool. The knocking says what the set cannot show: danger is always one door away.
Ah sir, ah sir, death’s the end of all.
Yes sir, yes sir, death ends everything.
Yes sir, yeah sir, death is the end of it all.
death ends it all thats final
Spakest thou of Juliet? How is it with her?
Doth not she think me an old murderer,
Now I have stain’d the childhood of our joy
With blood remov’d but little from her own?
Where is she? And how doth she? And what says
My conceal’d lady to our cancell’d love?
Did you speak of Juliet? How is she? Does she think of me as an old murderer, Now that I have stained the beginning of our joy With blood so close to her own? Where is she? And how is she? And what does My secret wife say about our cancelled love?
Did you mention Juliet? How is she? Does she see me as some old killer now, Since I've ruined the start of our happiness With blood that's almost like her own? Where is she? And how's she doing? And what does My hidden wife think about our destroyed love?
what about juliet how is she does she think i'm a murderer i stained our joy with blood where is she what does she say about us
O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps;
And now falls on her bed, and then starts up,
And Tybalt calls, and then on Romeo cries,
And then down falls again.
Oh, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps; And now she falls on her bed, and then jumps up, And cries out for Tybalt, and then for Romeo, And then collapses again.
Oh, she doesn't say anything, sir, just cries and cries; She throws herself on the bed, then jumps up, Calls out for Tybalt, then screams for Romeo, Then falls back down again.
she just cries and cries falls on bed jumps up calls tybalt then romeo then down again
As if that name,
Shot from the deadly level of a gun,
Did murder her, as that name’s cursed hand
Murder’d her kinsman. O, tell me, Friar, tell me,
In what vile part of this anatomy
Doth my name lodge? Tell me, that I may sack
The hateful mansion.
As if my name Were shot from a gun at deadly close range, Killed her, as my name's cursed hand Killed her relative. Oh, tell me, Friar, tell me, In what terrible part of this body Does my name live? Tell me, so I can destroy This hateful home.
Like my name Was a bullet shot straight at her, It killed her, just as my cursed hand Killed her kinsman. Oh Friar, tell me, Where in this body of mine Does my name hide? Tell me, so I can demolish This disgusting place.
my name shot from gun killed her like my hand killed tybalt where in this body does my name live so i can destroy it
Hold thy desperate hand.
Art thou a man? Thy form cries out thou art.
Thy tears are womanish, thy wild acts denote
The unreasonable fury of a beast.
Unseemly woman in a seeming man,
And ill-beseeming beast in seeming both!
Thou hast amaz’d me. By my holy order,
I thought thy disposition better temper’d.
Hast thou slain Tybalt? Wilt thou slay thyself?
And slay thy lady, that in thy life lives,
By doing damned 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.
Thy noble shape is but a form of wax,
Digressing from the valour of a man;
Thy dear love sworn but hollow perjury,
Killing that love which thou hast vow’d to cherish;
Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love,
Misshapen in the conduct of them both,
Like powder in a skilless soldier’s flask,
Is set afire by thine own ignorance,
And thou dismember’d with thine own defence.
What, rouse thee, man. Thy Juliet is alive,
For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead.
There art thou happy. Tybalt would kill thee,
But thou slew’st Tybalt; there art thou happy.
The law that threaten’d death becomes thy friend,
And turns it to exile; there art thou happy.
A pack of blessings light upon thy back;
Happiness courts thee in her best array;
But like a misshaped and sullen wench,
Thou putt’st up thy Fortune and thy love.
Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable.
Go, get thee to thy love as was decreed,
Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her.
But look thou stay not till the watch be set,
For then thou canst not pass to Mantua;
Where thou shalt live till we can find a time
To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends,
Beg pardon of the Prince, and call thee back
With twenty hundred thousand times more joy
Than thou went’st forth in lamentation.
Go before, Nurse. Commend me to thy lady,
And bid her hasten all the house to bed,
Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto.
Romeo is coming.
Stop your desperate hand. Are you a man? Your body says you are. But your tears are womanish, your wild actions show the unreasonable anger of a beast. You're an unseemly woman in a man's body, and a beast in both forms. You've shocked me. By my holy order, I thought you had better self-control. Did you kill Tybalt? Will you kill yourself? And destroy your lady, who lives because of you, by doing violence to yourself? Why curse your birth, heaven, and earth? Since these three meet in you at once, and you want to lose them all. Shame on you, you betray your appearance, your love, and your intelligence--all things you have in abundance like a usurer, but you use none of them correctly. Your noble shape is only wax that's lost its strength. Your love, sworn to her, is just hollow lies, killing the love you vowed to cherish. Your intelligence, which should adorn your looks and love, is twisted by how you use it--like gunpowder in a careless soldier's powder flask, set on fire by your own ignorance, and you're destroyed by your own defense. Wake up, man. Your Juliet is alive, and you've only just escaped death because of her. That's your luck. Tybalt wanted to kill you, but you killed Tybalt instead. That's your luck. The law threatened death, but now banishment is your reward. That's your luck. A cascade of blessings falls on your head. Happiness itself courts you in her finest clothes, but like a stubborn, sullen woman, you reject both luck and love. Take care, take care--people who act this way die miserably. Go to your love as planned. Go up to her chamber and comfort her. But make sure you leave before the night watch arrives, because then you can't escape to Mantua. Go to Mantua and stay there until we can find the right time to announce your marriage, reconcile your families, beg pardon from the Prince, and bring you back with millions of times more joy than when you left in tears. Go first, Nurse. Give my regards to your lady and tell her to hurry everyone to bed, which grief makes them ready for. Romeo is coming.
Stop your hand. Are you actually a man? You look like one. But you're crying like a woman and acting like an angry animal. You're acting like a woman in a man's body, and like a beast in every way. You've shocked me. I really thought you were better than this. Did you kill Tybalt? Are you going to kill yourself too? And destroy Juliet, who's alive because of you, by killing yourself? Why curse your whole existence--your birth, the heavens, everything? All three of those things are in you right now, and you want to throw them all away. You should be ashamed. You're wasting your good looks, your love, and your mind--you have all of these things, but you're using none of them right. Your body is just like wax that's lost its shape. Your love is fake, a promise you're breaking by harming yourself. Your intelligence, which should make you attractive and loving, is being used all wrong--like a soldier with no training holding gunpowder, starting a fire by accident and destroying himself. Listen to me. Juliet is alive. You just barely didn't die, and that's because of her. You got lucky. Tybalt wanted to kill you, you killed him instead. Lucky again. The law could have killed you, but instead you're just exiled. Lucky again. Good things are happening to you. Luck itself is trying to help you, dressed in her best, but you're pushing her away like a moody teenager. Don't do this--people who act like this end up dead and miserable. Go to Juliet like you planned. Go to her bedroom and comfort her. But get out of there before the night guard arrives on duty, because then you won't be able to get away to Mantua. Stay in Mantua, and I'll find a way to spread the word about your marriage, get your families to forgive each other, get the Prince to pardon you, and bring you back--with so much more happiness than when you left. Go on ahead, Nurse. Tell your lady I said hello and that she should get everyone to bed quick. They're tired and sad anyway. Romeo is on his way.
stop crying like a baby ur a man not a beast juliet is alive thats huge you got lucky with tybalt go comfort her n then get to mantua i promise ill bring u back happy
O Lord, I could have stay’d here all the night
To hear good counsel. O, what learning is!
My lord, I’ll tell my lady you will come.
Oh Lord, I could stay here all night Listening to good advice. Oh, what learning is! My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come.
Oh my, I could listen all night To this good counsel. What wisdom that is! My lord, I'll tell my lady you're coming.
oh i could stay listening all night what learning that is i'll tell lady u're coming
Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide.
Do so, and tell my sweet one to prepare to complain.
Yes, and tell my love to get ready to scold me.
tell my sweet prepare to chide
Here sir, a ring she bid me give you, sir.
Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late.
Here sir, a ring she asked me to give you, sir. Hurry yourself, make haste, because it grows very late.
Here sir, this ring she asked me to give you, sir. Quick, hurry up, it's getting really late.
here a ring she gave me for u hurry it's very late
How well my comfort is reviv’d by this.
How much my spirits have been lifted by this.
This has really lifted my mood.
this lifts my spirits
Go hence, good night, and here stands all your state:
Either be gone before the watch be set,
Or by the break of day disguis’d from hence.
Sojourn in Mantua. I’ll find out your man,
And he shall signify from time to time
Every good hap to you that chances here.
Give me thy hand; ’tis late; farewell; good night.
Go now, good night, and here stands all your situation: Either be gone before the guards are set, Or by sunrise disguised away from here. Stay in Mantua. I'll find your servant, And he will tell you from time to time Every good thing that happens here. Give me your hand; it's late; goodbye; good night.
Now go, good night, and here's what you must do: Either get out before the night watch posts, Or dress in disguise and leave at dawn. Hide out in Mantua. I'll find your man, And he'll send you news from time to time About everything good that happens here. Shake my hand; it's late; goodbye; good night.
go good night here's ur plan leave before guards set or leave at sunrise disguised stay in mantua i'll find ur servant he'll send u news give ur hand it's late bye
But that a joy past joy calls out on me,
It were a grief so brief to part with thee.
Farewell.
But for a joy beyond joy that calls to me, It would be a quick sadness to leave you. Farewell.
If I didn't have such incredible happiness waiting for me, It would be so painful to say goodbye to you. Farewell.
if not for joy beyond joy it'd hurt to leave u bye
The Reckoning
The scene belongs to Friar Lawrence's competence under pressure — he has a crisis on his hands and a plan to manage it. Romeo is genuinely falling apart, lying on the ground, weeping, threatening suicide, refusing to be comforted by philosophy. The Friar is practical where Romeo is theatrical. What makes the scene emotionally complex is that both of them are right about something: Romeo is correct that banishment is a form of death for someone who lives for Juliet, and the Friar is correct that Romeo is wasting his only night. The ring from Juliet is what saves Romeo — not the sermon, but the physical object from the person who matters.
If this happened today…
Someone has just done something legally catastrophic — a fight that went too far — and is hiding at their lawyer's office, completely unraveling. The lawyer is trying to keep them functional: you're not in prison, you're not dead, here's the plan. The client is sobbing on the floor saying 'you don't understand, you've never been in love.' Then the client's wife's best friend shows up and says his wife is also falling apart. The client pulls it together just enough to hear the plan. The friend hands over a ring the wife sent. He heads out.