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Stop thy unhallowed toil, vile Montague;
Can vengeance be pursued 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 hither.-
Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man;
Fly hence and leave me-think upon these gone;
Let them affright thee.-I beseech thee, youth,
Heap not another sin upon my head,
By urging me to fury.-O, be gone!
By Heaven, I love thee better than myself;
For I come hither armed against myself.
Stay not; begone;-live, and hereafter say-
A madman's mercy bade thee run away.
Par. I do defy thy conjurations,'
And do attach thee as a felon here.
I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave;
A grave? O, no; a lantern, slaughtered youth;
Rom. Wilt thou provoke me? Then have at thee, [They fight. Page. O Lord! they fight. I will go call the watch. [Exit Page
Par. O, I am slain! [ Falls.]—If thou be merciful, Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet.
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.
Said he not so ? 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 sour misfortune's book!
1 I refuse to do as thou conjurest me to do, i. e. depart. So Constance, in King John, says :—
No, I defy all counsel, all redress.”
2 A lantern may here signify what in ancient records is styled lanternium, i. e. a spacious round or octagonal turret, full of windows, by means of which cathedrals and sometimes halls are illuminated.
A presence is a public room, which is, at times, the presence-chamber of a sovereign.
For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes
This vault a feasting presence full of light.
Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interred.
[Laying PARIS in the monument.
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
Call this a lightning?-O my love! my wife!
Death, that hath sucked the honey of thy breath,
Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.
Thou art not conquered; 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 favor 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 worms that are thy chambermaids; O, here
Will I set up my everlasting rest; 2
And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars
From this world-wearied flesh.-Eyes, look your last!
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, come, unsavory guide!
Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on
The dashing rocks thy seasick, weary bark!
Here's to my love! [Drinks.]-O true apothecary!
Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die. [Dies.
The first quarto reads, " But how," &c. This idea very frequently occurs in our old dramas.
2 See note 1, p. 225.
3 Conduct for conductor.
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 you well.
Fri. How long hath he been there?
Fri. Go with me to the vault.
Fri. Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend,
What torch is yond' that vainly lends his light
To grubs and eyeless skulls? as I discern,
It burneth in the Capels' monument.
Bal. It doth so, holy sir; and there's my master,
One that you
Who is it?
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.-Fear comes upon me;
O, much I fear some ill, unlucky thing.
Bal. As I did sleep under this yew-tree here,
I dreamed 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 gory swords
To lie discolored by this place of peace?
[Enters the monument. Romeo! O, pale!-Who else? what, Paris too?
1 This accident was reckoned ominous.
2 This was one of the touches of nature that would have escaped the hand of any painter less attentive to it than Shakspeare. What happens to a person while he is under the manifest influence of fear, will seem to him, when he is recovered from it, like a dream.
And steeped in blood! Ah, what an unkind hour
Is guilty of this lamentable chance!-
The lady stirs.
[JULIET wakes, and stirs.
Jul. O comfortable friar! where is my lord?
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 nes.
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.] I dare stay
Jul. Go, get thee hence, for I will not away.
What's here? a cup, closed 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.
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
1 Thus the quarto of 1599. That of 1597 reads:
1 Watch. The ground is bloody; search about the
Go, some of you, whoe'er you find, attach.
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 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.
Enter some of the Watch, with BALTHAZAR.
2 Watch. Here's Romeo's man; we found him in the church-yard.
1 Watch. Hold him in safety, till the prince come hither.
Enter the Prince and Attendants.
Prince. What misadventure is so early up, That calls our person from our morning's rest?
Enter another Watchman, with FRIAR LAUREnce.
3 Watch. Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs, and
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 CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and others.
Cap. What should it be, that they so shriek abroad? 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 ears? 1 Watch. Sovereign, here lies the county Paris slain ;