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Romeo fulfils the dying request of Paris, and lays him in the Monument: »

Let me peruse this face: Mercatio's kinsman, noble county Paris ! What said my man, when my betossed soul Did not attend hiin as we rode? I think, He told me, Paris should have married Juliet: Said he not so? or did I dream it so? Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet, To think it was so? –0, give me thy hand, One writ with me in sour misfortune's book! I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave. A grave? 0, no: a lantern, slaughter'd youth, For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes This vault a feasting presence full of light. Death, lie 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: 0, how may i Call this a lightning?



wife! Death that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath, Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty : Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet Is crimson in thy lips, and in thy cheeks, And death's pale flag is not advanced there. Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet ?

0, what more favour can I do to thee,
Than with that hand, that cut thy youth in twain,
To sunder his, that was thine enemy?
Forgive me, cousin! - Ah, dear Juliet,
Why art thou yet so fair? 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 will still stay with thee;
And never from this palace of dim night
Depart again; here, here will I remain
With wornus that are thy chamber-maids; 0, here
Will I set up my everlasting rest;
And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars
From this world-wearied flesh.

Eyes, look your last!
Arms, take your last embracel and lips, O you
The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss
A dateless bargain to engrossing deathi
Come, biller conduct, come, unsavoury guide!
Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on
The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark !
Here's to my love!

The design represents Romeo drinking the poison, a few moments before Juliet wakes from her stupor.

0, true Apothecary! Thy drugs are quick. — Thus with a kiss I die,»




In this design, Juliet is represented awaking from of grief caused by Romeo's exile. The various partiher lethargic state : she finds her husband dead by culars of the sad catastrophe before them, are gaher side, and she sees she fatal cup, which his hand thered from Friar Laurence, whose kind intentions still clenches :

to remove Juliet from the tomb have been so cruelly

thwarted. The Prince then addresses the heads of Where is my lord ? I do remember well where I should be,

the two hostile houses : And there I am: - where is iny Romeo ?

Capulet! Montague!

See, what a scourge is laid upon your hate, What's here? a cop, clos'd in my true love's hand?

That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love! Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end :

And I, for winking at your discords too, O churiI drink all; and leave no friendly drop,

Have lost a brace of kinsmen : - all are punish’d. To help me after? - I will kiss thy lips :

CAPULET. O, brother Montague , give me thy hand: Haply, some poison yet doch hang on them,

This is my daughter's jointure, for no more To make me die with a restorative.

Can I demand, (Kissing him.)

Montague. But I can give thee more: Thy lips are warm!

For I will raise her statue in pure gold;

That while Verona by that name is known, Yea , noise? - then I'll be brief. O happy dagger!

There shall no figure at such rate be set, (Snatching Romeo's dagger.)

As that of true and faithful Juliet. This is thy sheath; (Stabs herself) there rust, and let me

Capulet. As rich shall Romeo by his lady lie; die. »

Poor sacrifices of our enmily! Thus, before the City-Watch, alarmed by the Prince. A glooining peace this morning with it brings;

The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head: Page of Paris, arrives, Juliet falls on Romeo's body

Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; and dies. Subsequently, the prince and his atten

Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished : dants, followed by the Capulets, enter the vault; For never was a story of more woe, as also Montague, whose wife is dead from excess Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.


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41 V. Scene 3

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