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Get me an Iron Crow, and bring it streight
Unto my Cell.
John. Brother, I'll go and bring it thee.
Law. Now must I to the Monument alone,
Within this three Hours will fair Juliet wake,
She will beshrew me much, that Romeo
Hath had no notice of these Accidents:
But I'will write again to Mantua,
And keep her at my Cell 'till Romeo come,
Poor living Coarse, clos'd in a dead Man's Tomb.
SCEN E III. A Church-yard, in it, a noble Monument belonging to the Capulets.
Enter Paris and his Page, with a Light. Par. Give me thy Torch, Boy; hence, and stand aloof : Yėt put it out, for I would not be seen : Under yond young Trees lay thee all along, Laying thy Ear close to the hollow Ground, So Thall no foot upon the Church-yard tread, Being loose, unfirm, with digging up of Graves, But thou shalt hear it: Whistle then to me, As fignal that thou hearest something approach. Give me those Flowers. Do as I bid thee, go.
Pag. I am almost afraid to stand alone Here in the Church-yard, yet I will adventure. [Exit,
Par. Sweet Flower, with Flowers thy bridal Bed I itrew: O Woe, thy Canopy is Duft and Stones, Which with sweet Water nightly I will dew, Or wanting that, with Tears distilled by Mones; The Obsequies that I for thee will keep, Nightly shall be, to strew thy Grave and weep.
[The Boy whistlęs. The Boy gives warning, something doth approach, What cursed Foot wanders this way to Night, To cross my Obsequies, and true Loves Řight? What with a Torch? Muffle me, Night, a while.
Enter Romeo and Peter' with a Light. Rom. Give me that Mattock, and the wrenching Iron. * Hold, take thiş Letter, early in the Morning
See thou deliver it to my Lord and Father,
Give me the Light; upon thy Life I charge thee,
Whate'er thou hear'st or feest, stand all aloof,
And do not interrupt me in my Course,
Why I descend into this Bed of Death,
Is partly to behold my Lady's Face :
But chiefly to take thence from her dead Finger,
A precious Ring, a Ring that I must use
In dear Employment, therefore hence be gone :
But if thou, Jealous, doft return to Pry
In what I further shall intend to do,
By Heaven I will tear thee Joint by Joint,
And strew this hungry Church-yard with thy Limbs :
The Time, and my intents are savage wild,
More fierce, and more inexorable far,
Than empty Tygers, or the roaring Sea.
Pet. I will be gone Sir, and not trouble you,
Rom. So shalt thou thew me Friendship: Take thou that, Live and be prosperous, and farewel good Fellow..
Pet. For all this same, I'll hide me here about, His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt.
[Exit. Rom. Thou detestable Maw, thou Womb of Death, Gorg'd with the dearest Morsel of the Earth: Thus I enforce thy rotten Jaws to open,
the Monument. + And in despight, I'll cram thee with more Food,
Par. This is that banisht haughty Mountague
That murthered my Love's Coulin; with which Grief,
It is supposed the Fair Creature died,
And here is come to do some Villanous Shame
To the dead Bodies : I will apprehend him.
Stop thy unhallowed Toil, vile Mountague :
Can Vengeance be pursu'd further than Death?
Condemned Villain, I do apprehend thee;
with me, for thou must Die. .
Rom. I must indeed, and therefore came I hither ----
Good gentle Youth, tempt not a desperate Man,
Fly hence and leave me, think upon those gone,
Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, Youth,
Pull not another sin upon my Head,
By urging me to Fury. O be gone,
By Heaven I love thee better than my self;
For I come hither arm'd against my
Stay not, be gone; Live, and hereafter say,
A mad Man's Mercy bid thee run away.
Par. I do defie thy Commiseration,
And apprehend thee for a Fellon here.
Rom. Wilt thou provoke me? Then have at thee Boy.
[They Fight, Paris falls. Pag. O Lord they Fight, I will go call thee Watch.
Par. O I am slain; if thou be Merciful,
Open the Tomb, lay me with Juliet.
Rom. In Faith I will: Let me peruse this Face
Mercutio's Kiosman! Noble County Paris!
What said my Man, when my betossed Soul
Did not attend him as we rode ? I think
He told me Paris should have married Juliet.
Said he not fo? Or did I dream it so?
Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet,
To think it was so ? O give me thy Hand,
One writ with me in four Misfortune's Book,
I'll bury thee in a triumphant Grave.
A Grave? O no a Lanthorn, slaughter'd Youth:
For here lyes Juliet, and her Beauty makes
This Vault a Feasting Presence full of Light.
Death, lye thou there, by a dead Man interr’d.
How oft when Men are at the Point of Death,
Have they been Merry? Which their Keepers call
A Lightning before Death? O how may I
Call this a Lightning? O my Love, my Wife,
Death that hath suckt the Honey of thy Breath,
Hath had no Power yet upon thy Beauty:
Thou art not Conquer’d, Beauties Ensign yet
Is Crimson in thy Lips, and in thy Cheeks,
And Death's pale Flag is not advanced there.
Tybalt, ly'st thou there in thy bloody Sheet?
O what more Favour can I do to thee,
Then with that Hand that cut thy Youth in twain,
To sunder his that was thy Enemy?
Forgive me, Cousin. Ah dear Juliet :
Why art thou yet so fair? I will believe,
Shall I believe, that unsubstantial Death is Amorous ?
And that the lean abhorred Monster, keeps
Thee here in Dark, to be his Paramour ?
For fear of that, I still will stay with thee,
And never from this Palace of dim Night
Depart again: Come lye thou in my Arms;
Here's to thy Health, where-e'er thou tumblest in.
O true Apothecary!
Thy Drugs are quick. Thus with a Kiss I die,
Depart again; here, here will I remain,
With Worms that are thy Chamber-Maids; O re
Will I set up my Everlasting rest;
And shake the Yoak of inauspicious Stars
From this World's wearied Flesh, Eyes look your last:
Arms take your last Embrace; and Lips, you
The Doors of Breath, seal with a Righteous Kiss
A dateless Bargain to engrossing Death:
Come bitter Conduct, come unsavoury Guide,
Thou desperate Pilot, now at once run on
The dashing Rocks thy Sea-fick weary Bark :
Here's to my Love. O true Apothecary!
Thy Drugs are quick. Thus with a Kiss I die.
Enter Friar Lawrence with Lanthorn, Crow, and Spade.
Fri. St. Francis be my speed, how oft to Night Have my old Feet stumbled at Graves? Who's there?
Pet. Here's one, a Friend, and one that knows you wella
Fri. Bliss be upon you. Tell me, good my Friend,
What Torch is yond, that vainly lends his Light
To grubs and eyeless Sculls? As I discern,
It burneth in the Capulets Monument.
Pet. It doth so, Holy Sir.
And there's my Master, one that you Lové
Fri. Who is it?
Fri. How long hath he been there?
Pet. Full half an hour.
Fri. Go with me to the Vault.
Pet. I dare not, Sir.
My Master knows not but I am gone hence;
And fearfully did menace me with Death,
If I did stay to look on his Intents.
Fri. Stay, then I'll go alone; fears comes upon me;
O much I'fear some ill unlucky thing.
Pet. As I did sleep under this
I dreamt my Master and another fought,
And that my Master flew him.
Alack, alack, what Blood is this which stains
The ftony Entrance of this Sepulchre?
What mean these Masterless and Goary Swords
To lie discolour'd by this place of Peace?
Romeo ! oh pale! Who elfe? What Paris too?
And steep'd in Blood? Ah what an unkind Hour
Is guilty of this lamentable Chance?
The Lady stirs.
Jul. O comfortable Friar, where's my
I do remember well where I should be ;
And there I am; where is my Romeo ?
Fri. I hear some noise, Lady, come from that Neft
Of Death, Contagion, and unnatural Sleep;
A greater Power than we can contradic
Hath thwarted our Intents; come, come away,
Thy Husband in thy Bosom there lyes Dead,
And Paris tooCome I'll dispose of thee,
Among a Sisterhood of Holy Nuns:
Stay not to question, for the Watch is coming,
Come, go good Juliet, I dare no longer stay.
Jul. Go, get thee hence, for I will not away.
What's here? A Cup clos’d in my true Love's hand?
Poison I fee hath been his timeless End.
o Chur), drink all, and left no Friendly drop,
To help me after? I will Kiss thy Lips,
Haply some Poison yet doth Hang on them,
To make me Die with a Restorative.
Thy Lips are warm.
Enter Boy and Watch.
Watch. Lead Boy, which way?
ful. Yea, noise Then I'll be brief. O happy Dagger, Tis in thy Sheath, there rust and let me die.
[Kills her Self Boy. This is the place, There where the Torch doth burn.