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Come to redeem me? there's a fearful point!
Shall I not then be stiffed in the vault,
To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in,
And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes?
Or, if I live, is it not very like,
The horrible conceit of death and night,
Together with the terror of the place,—
As in a vault, an ancient receptacle,
Where, for these many hundred years, the bones
Of all my buried ancestors are pack'd;
Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth,
Lies fest'ring in his shroud; where, as they say,
At some hours in the night spirits resort ;-
Alack, alack! is it not like, that I,
So early waking-what with loathsome smells;
And shrieks like mandrakes' torn out of the earth,
That living mortals, hearing them, run mad;1—
O! if I wake, shall I not be distraught,2
Environed with all these hideous fears?
And madly play with my forefathers' joints?
And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud?
And, in this rage, with some great kinsman's bone,
As with a club, dash out my desperate brains?
O, look! methinks, I see my cousin's ghost
Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body
Upon a rapier's point:-Stay, Tybalt, stay!—
Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee.
[She throws herself on the bed.
SCENE IV.-Capulet's hall. Enter Lady Cap-0,
ulet and Nurse.
For so he said he would. I hear him near :-
Nurse!-Wife!--what, ho!-what, nurse, I say!
Call Peter, he will show thee where they are.
2 Serv. I have a head, sir, that will find out logs, And never trouble Peter for the matter. [Exit. Cap. 'Mass, and well said; A merry whore son! ha,
Thou shalt be logger-head.-Good faith, 'tis day:
The county will be here with music straight,
(1) The fabulous accounts of the plant called mandrake give it a degree of animal life, and say that when it is torn from the ground it groans, which is fatal to him that pulls it up.
Go, waken Juliet, go, and trim her up;
I'll go and chat with Paris:-Hie, make haste,
Make haste! the bridegroom he is come already :
Make haste, I say!
SCENE V-Juliet's chamber; Juliet on the bed. Enter Nurse.
Nurse. Mistress!-what, mistress!-Juliet!-
fast, I warrant her, she:-
Why, lamb-why, lady!-fie, you slug-a-bed!--
Why, love, I say!-madam! sweet-heart!-why,
What, not a word?-you take your pennyworths
Sleep for a week: for the next night, I warrant,
The county Paris hath set up his rest,
That you shall rest but little-God forgive me,
(Marry and amen!) how sound is she asleep!
I needs must wake her :-Madam, madam, madam!
Ay, let the county take you in your bed;
He'll fright you up, i'faith.-Will it not be?
What, drest! and in your clothes! and down again?
I must needs wake you: Lady! lady! lady!
Alas! alas!—Help! help! my lady's dead!—
well-a-day, that ever I was born!-
Some aqua-vitæ, ho!—my lord! my lady !
Enter Lady Capulet.
La. Cap. What noise is here?
La. Cap. What is the matter?
Look, look! O heavy day!
Revive, look up, or I will die with thee
La. Cap. O me, O me!-my child, my only life,
Help, help!-call help.
Cap. For shame, bring Juliet forth; her lord is
Nurse. She's dead, deceas'd, she's dead; alack the day!
La. Cap. Alack the day! she's dead, she's dead,
Her blood is settled; and her joints are stiff;
Cap. Ha! let me see her :-Out, alas! she's cold;
Life and these lips have long been separated:
Death lies on her, like an untimely frost
Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.
Accursed time! unfortunate old man!
Nurse. O lamentable day!
O woful time! Cap. Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail,
Ties up my tongue, and will not let me speak.
Enter Friar Laurence and Paris, with Musicians.
Fri. Come, is the bride ready to go to church?
Cap. Ready to go, but never to return:
O son, the night before thy wedding-day
Hath death lain with thy bride:-See, there she lies,
Flower as she was, deflowered by him.
Death is my son-in-law, death is my heir;
My daughter he hath wedded! I will die,
And leave him all; life leaving, all is death's.
(3) The room where pies were made.
(4) Mouse was a term of endearment to a
Par. Have I thought long to see this morning's || heart's ease; O, an you will have me live, playface,
And doth it give me such a sight as this?
La. Cap. Accurs'd, unhappy, wretched, hateful
Most miserable hour, that e'er time saw
In lasting labour of his pilgrimage!
But one, poor one, one poor and loving child,
But one thing to rejoice and solace in,
And cruel death ha catch it from my sight.
Nurse. O wo! O woful, woful, woful day!
Most lamentable day! most woful day,
That ever, ever, I did yet behold!
O day! O day! O day! O hateful day!
Never was seen so black a day as this:
O woful day, O woful day!
In these confusions. Heaven and yourself
Had part in this fair maid; now heaven hath all,
And all the better is it for the maid:
Your part in her you could not keep from death;
But Heaven keeps his part in eternal life.
The most you sought was-her promotion;
For 'twas your heaven, she should be advanc'd:.
And weep ye now, seeing she is advanc'd,
Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself?
O, in this love, you love your child so ill,
That you run mad, seeing that she is well:
She's not well married, that lives married long;
But she's best married, that dies married young.
Dry up your tears, and stick
On this fair corse; and, as the custom is,
In all her best array bear her to church:
For though fond nature bids us all lament,
Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment.
Par. Beguil'd, divorced, wronged, spited, slain! I'll fa you; Do you note me?
Most détestable death, by thee beguil'd,
By cruel, cruel thee quite overthrown!-
O love! O life!-not life, but love in death!
1 Mus. An you re us, and fa us, you note us.
2 Mus. Pray you, put up your dagger, and put out your wit.
Cap. Despis'd, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd!
Uncomfortable time, why cam'st thou now
To murder murder our solemnity?—
O child! O child!-my soul, and not my child!-
Dead art thou, dead!-alack! my child is dead;
And, with my child, my joys are buried.
Pet. Then have at you with my wit; I will drybeat you with an iron wit, and put up my iron dagger:-Answer me like men:
Fri. Peace, ho, for shame! confusion's cure liyes
Nurse. Honest good fellows, ah, put up; put up; For, well you know, this is a pitiful case.
[Exit Nurse. 1 Mus. Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended.
Pet. Musicians, O musicians, Heart's ease,
1 Mus. Why heart's ease?
Pet. O, musicians, because my heart itself plays -My heart is full of wo: O, play me some merry dump, to comfort me.
(1) Dumps were heavy mournful tunes. (2) To gleek is to scoff, and a gleekman signified a minstrel.
2 Mus. Not a dump we; tis no time to play now. Pet. You will not then?
2 Mus. No.
Pet. I will then give it you soundly.
1 Mus. What will you give us?
Pet. No money, on my faith; but the gleek:2 1 will give you the minstrel.
1 Mus. Then will I give you the serving-creature. Pet. Then will I lay the serving-creature's dagger on your pate. I will carry no crotchets: I'll re you,
When griping grief the heart doth wound,
And doleful dumps the mind oppress,
Then music, with her silver sound;
Why, silver sound? why, music with her silver sound?
And breath'd such life with kisses in my lips,
That I reviv'd and was an emperor.
Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess'd,
When but love's shadows are so rich in joy!
News from Verona !-How now, Balthasar?
(3) And the jocund rebecks sound.' MILTON, (4) i. e. Love.
Dost thou not bring me letters from the friar?
How doth my lady? Is my father well?
How fares my Juliet? That I ask again;
For nothing can be ill, if she be well.
Bal. Then she is well, and nothing can be ill; Her body sleeps in Capels' monument, And her immortal part with angels lives; I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault, And presently took post to tell it you: O pardon me for bringing these ill news, Since you did leave it for my office, sir.
Rom. Is it even so? then I defy you, stars!Thou know'st my lodging: get me ink and paper, And hire post-horses; I will hence to-night.
Bal. Pardon me, sir, I will not leave you thus: Your looks are pale and wild, and do import Some misadventure.
Rom. Tush, thou art deceiv'd; Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do: Hast thou no letters to me from the friar?
Bal. No, my good lord.
No matter: get thee gone,
And hire those horses; I'll be with thee straight.
Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night.
Let's see for means:-O, mischief, thou art swift
To enter in the thoughts of desperate men!
I do remember an apothecary,-
And hereabouts he dwells,-whom late I noted
In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows,
Culling of simples; meagre were his looks,
Sharp misery had worn him to the bones;
And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,
An alligator stuff'd, and other skins
Of ill-shap'd fishes; and about his shelves
A beggarly account of empty boxes,
Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds,
Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses,
Were thinly scatter'd, to make up a show.
Noting this penury, to myself I said-
An if a man did need a poison now,
Whose sale is present death in Mantua,
Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.
O, this same thought did but fore-run my need;
And this same needy man must sell it me.
As I remember, this should be the house :
Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut.-
What, ho! apothecary!
And drink it off; and, if you had the strength
Of twenty men, it would despatch you straight.
Rom. There is thy gold; worse poison to men's
Who calls so loud? Rom. Come hither, man.-I see, that thou art poor; Hold, there is forty ducats: let me have A dram of poison; such soon-speeding geer2 As will disperse itself through all the veins, That the life-weary taker may fall dead; And that the trunk may be discharg'd of breath As violently, as hasty powder fir'd Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb.
Ap. Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's law Is death, to any he that utters them.
Rom. Art thou so bare, and full of wretchedness,
And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks,
Need and oppression starveth in thy eyes,
Upon thy back hangs ragged misery,
The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law :
The world affords no law to make thee rich;
Then be not poor, but break it, and take this.
Ap. My poverty, but not my will, consents.
Rom. pay thy poverty, and not thy will.
Ap. Put this in any liquid thing you will,
(1) Herbs. (2) Stuff.
Doing more murders in this loathsome world, Than these poor compounds that thou may'st not sell:
I sell thee poison, thou hast sold me none.
Farewell; buy food, and get thyself in flesh.-
Come, cordial, and not poison; go with me
To Juliet's grave, for there must I use thee. [Exe.
SCENE II.-Friar Laurence's cell. Enter Friar
John. Holy Franciscan friar! brother, ho!
Enter Friar Laurence.
Lau. This same should be the voice of friar
Welcome from Mantua: What says Romeo?
Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter.
John. Going to find a barefoot brother out,
One of our order to associate me,
Here in this city visiting the sick,
And finding him, the searchers
Suspecting that we both were in a house
Where the infectious pestilence did reign,
Seal'd up the doors, and would not let us forth;
So that my speed to Mantua there was stay'd.
Lau. Who bare my letter then to Romeo? John. I could not send it,-here it is again,Nor get a messenger to bring it thee, So fearful were they of infection.
Lau. Unhappy fortune! by my brotherhood, The letter was not nice,3 but full of charge, Of dear import; and the neglecting it May do much danger: Friar John, go hence; Get me an iron crow, and bring it straight Unto my cell.
John. Brother, I'll go and bring't thee. [Exit. Lau. 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 corse, clos'd in a dead man's tomb!
SCENE III-A church-yard; in it, a monu-
ment belonging to the Capulets. Enter Paris;
and his Page, bearing flowers and a torch.
Par. Give me thy torch, boy: Hence, and stand
Yet put it out, for I would not be seen.
Under yon yew-trees lay thee all along,
Holding thine ear close to the hollow ground;
So shall 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 signal that thou hear'st something approach.
Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go.
Page. I am almost afraid to stand alone
Here in the church-yard; yet I will adventure.
[Retires, Par. Sweet flower, with flowers I strew thy bridal bed:
Sweet tomb, that in thy circuit dost contain
The perfect model of eternity;
Fair Juliet, that with angels dost remain,
Accept this latest favour at my hands;
That living honour'd thee, and, being dead,
(3) i. e. On a trivial or idle subject,
Rom. In faith, I will:-Let me peruse this face;
Mercutio's kinsman, 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: [Retires. Said he not so? or did I dream it so? Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet, mat-To think it was so?--O, give me thy hand,
One writ with me in sour misfortune's book !~
I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave,-
A grave? O, no; a lantern,3 slaughter'd youth,
For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes
This vault a feasting presence4 full of light.
Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr'd.
[Laying Paris in the monument.
How oft when men are at the point of death
Have they been merry? which their keepers
A lightning before death: O, how may
Call this a lightning ?--O, my love! my 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?
O, 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 ine, 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 worms that are thy chambermaids; O, here
Will I set up my everlasting rest;
And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars
From this world-wearied flesh.-Eyes, look your
With funeral praises do adorn thy tomb!
[The boy whistles.
The boy gives warning, something doth approach.
What cursed foot wanders this way to-night,
To cross my obsequies, and true-love's rites?
What, with a torch!-muffle me, night, a while.
Enter Romeo and Balthasar, with a torch, tock, &c.
Rom. Give me that mattock, and the wrenching
Hold, take this 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 seest, 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 hence from her dead finger
A precious ring; a ring that I must use
In dear employment: therefore hence, be gone :-
But if thou, jealous, dost 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 tigers, or the roaring sea.
Bal. I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you.
Rom. So shalt thou show me friendship.-Take
Live, and be prosperous; and farewell, good fellow.
Bal. For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout;
His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt. [Retires.
Rom. Thou détestable maw, thou womb of death,
Gorg'd with the dearest morsel of the earth,
Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open,
[Breaking open the door of the monument. And, in despite, I'll cram thee with more food.
Par. This is that banish'd haughty Montague,
That murder'd my love's cousin;-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 unhallow'd toil, vile Montague;
Can vengeance be pursu'd further than death?
Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee:
Obey, and go with me; for thou must die.
Rom. I must, indeed; and therefore came I
Arms, take your last embrace! and lips, O you
The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss
A dateless bargain to engrossing death!-
Come, bitter conduct,5 coine, unsavoury guide!
Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on
The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark!
Here's to my love!—[Drinks.] O, true apothecary!
Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die.
[Dies. Enter at the other end of the church-yard, Friar
Laurence, with a lantern, crow, and spade. Fri. Saint Francis be my speed! how oft to-night Have my old feet stumbled at graves?-Who's there?
Who is it that consorts, so late, the dead?
Bal. Here's one, a friend, and one that knows
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 Capels' monument.
Bal. It doth so, holy sir; and there's my master,
One that you love.
Who is it?
Fri. How long hath he been there?
The allusion is to a louvre or turret full of windows, by means of which ancient halls, &c. are
(1) i. e. Action of importance.
(2) I do refuse to do as thou conjurest me to do, illuminated. ¿. e. depart.
Fri. Go with me to the vault.
Full half an hour.
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.
Enter another Watchman, with Friar Laurence.
3 Watch. Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs,
Fri. Stay then, I'll go alone:-Fear comes upon We took this mattock and this spade from him,
As he was coming from this church-yard side.
1 Watch. A great suspicion; Stay the friar too.
Enter the Prince and Attendants.
O, much I fear some ill unlucky thing.
Bal. As I did sleep under this yew-tree here,
I dreamt my master and another fought,
And that my master slew him.
Alack, alack, what blood is this, which stains
The stony entrance of this sepulchre ?—
What mean these masterless and
To lie discolour'd by this place of peace?
[Enters the monument.
Romeo! O, pale!-Who else? what, Paris too?
And steep'd in blood?---Ah, what an unkind hour
Is guilty of this lamentable chance!-
The lady stirs.
[Juliet wakes and stirs.
Jul. Ŏ, comfortable friar! where is
I do remember well where I should be,
And there I am:--Where is my Romeo?
[Noise within. Fri. I hear some noise.-Lady, come from that
Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep;
A greater power than we can contradict
Hath thwarted our intents; come, come away:
Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead;
And Paris too. Come, I'll dispose of thee
Among a sisterhood of holy nuns :
Stay not to question, for the watch is coming;
Come, go, good Juliet,-[Noise again.]
stay no longer.
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 see, hath been his timeless end;-
O churl! drink all? and leave 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. [Kisses him.
Thy lips are warm!
I Watch. [Within.] Lead, boy :-Which way? Jul. Yea, noise?-then I'll be brief.-O happy dagger! [Snatching Romeo's dagger. This is thy sheath; [Stabs herself.] there rust, and let me die.
[Falls on Romeo's body, and dies. Enter Watch, with the Page of Paris. Page. This is the place; there, where the torch doth burn.
1 Watch. The ground is bloody; Search about the church-yard: Go, some of you, whoe'er you find, attach. [Exeunt some. Pitiful sight! here lies the county slain ;And Juliet bleeding; warm, and newly dead, Who here hath lain these two days buried.Go, tell the prince,-run to the Capulets,Raise up the Montagues,-some others search;[Exeunt the other Watchmen. We see the ground whereon these woes do lie; But the true ground of all these piteous woes, We cannot without circumstance descry.
1 Watch. Hold him in safety, till the prince come hither.
Enter some of the Watch, with Balthasar. 2 Watch. Here's Romeo's man, we found him in the church-yard.
(1) i. e. The scabbard. (2) Seat.
Prince. What misadventure is so early up, That calls our person from our morning's rest?
Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, and others.
Cap. What should it be, that they so shriek
La. Cap. The people in the street cry-Romeo,
Some-Juliet, and some-Paris; and all run,
With open outcry toward our monument.
Prince. What fear is this, which startles in our
1 Watch. Sovereign, here lies the county Paris
And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before,
Warm and new kill'd.
Prince. Search, seek, and know how this foul
1 Watch. Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's man; With instruments upon them, fit to open These 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 is mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom.
La. Cap. O me! this sight of death is as a bell,
That warns my old age to a sepulchre.
Enter Montague and others.
Prince. Come, Montague; for thou art early up, To see thy son and heir more early down.
Mon. Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night; Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath: What further wo conspires against mine age? Prince. Look, and thou shalt see.
Mon. O thou untaught! what manners is in this,
To press 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 de-
And then will I be general of your woes,
And lead you even to death: Mean time forbear,
And let mischance be slave to patience.-
Bring forth the parties of suspicion.
Fri. I am the greatest, able to do least,
Yet most suspected, as the time and place
Doth make against me, of this direful murder;
And here I stand, both to impeach and purge
Myself condemn'd and myself accus'd.
Prince. Then say at once what thou dost know
Fri. I will be brief, for my short date of breath
Is not so long as is a tedious tale.
Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet;
And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife:
I married them; and their stolen marriage-day
Was Tybalt's doomsday, whose untimely death
Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from this city;
For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pin'd.
You-to remove that siege of grief from her,-