La. Cap. The people in the street cry-Romeo, Some-Juliet, and fome-Paris; and all run, With open outcry, toward our monument. Prince. What fear is this, which startles in our ears? 1. Watch. Sovereign, here lies the county Paris flain; And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before, Warm and new kill'd. Prince. Search, feek, and know how this foul murder comes. 1. Watch. Here is a friar, and flaughter'd Romeo's man ; With inftruments upon them, fit to open Thefe dead men's tombs. Cap. O, heavens !-O, wife! look how our daughter bleeds! This dagger hath mista’en,-for, lo! his house Is empty on the back of Montague,— And it mis-fheathed in my daughter's bofom. Enter MONTAGUE and Others. "Prince. Come, Montague; for thou art early up, To fee thy fon and heir more early down. Mon. Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night; Grief of my fon's exíle hath stopp'd her breath: What further woe confpires against mine age? Prince. Look, and thou fhalt fee. Mon. O thou untaught! what manners is in this, To prefs before thy father to a grave ? Prince. Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while, Till we can clear these ambiguities, And know their spring, their head, their true descent; And then will I be general of your woes, And lead you even to death: Meantime forbear, And And let mifchance be flave to patience.- Fri. I am the greatest, able to do least, Prince. Then fay at once what thou doft know in this. Is not fo long as is a tedious tale. Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet; Or, in my cell there would fhe kill herself. The form of death: meantime I writ to Romeo, Meaning Meaning to keep her closely at my cell, Till I conveniently could fend to Romeo: The noble Paris, and true Romeo, dead. Prince. We still have known thee for a holy man.- To this fame place, to this fame monument. Prince. Give me the letter, I will look on it.- Page. He came with flowers to ftrew his lady's grave; And bid me ftand aloof, and fo I did: Anon, comes one with light to ope the tomb; And then I ran away to call the watch. Prince. This letter doth make good the friar's words, Their course of love, the tidings of her death: And here he writes-that he did buy a poison Of Of a poor 'pothecary, and therewithal Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet.- That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love! Have loft a brace of kinfmen-all are punish'd. Man. But I can give thee more: That, while Verona by that name is known, Cap. As rich fhall Romeo by his lady lie; Poor facrifices of our enmity! Prince. A glooming peace this morning with it brings; Go hence, to have more talk of these fad things; For never was a ftory of more woe, [Exeunt 3 |