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To cross my obsequies, and true-love's rites ? What, with a torch!-muffle me, night, a while. [Retires.

Enter ROMEO and BALTHASAR with a Torch, Mattock, &c.

Rom. Give me that mattock, and the wrenching iron.

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 thence from her dead finger
A precious ring; a ring that I must use

In dear employment:2 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 churchyard 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

thou that:

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.

2i. e. Action of importance.

[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 villainous shame
To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him.—
[Advances.

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 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 arm'd against myself:
Stay not, begone;-live, and hereafter say-
A madman's mercy bade thee run away.

Par. I do defy thy conjurations,3

And do attach thee as a felon here.

Rom. Wilt thou provoke me? then have at thee,

boy.

[They fight.

3 I refuse to do as thou conjurest me to do, i. e. depart.

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.

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[Dies.
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!
I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave,-

4

A grave? O, 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.

[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 I
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?

4 The allusion is to a louvre or turret full of windows by means of which ancient halls, &c. are illuminated.

5 Presence chamber.

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 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;

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, 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 Churchyard, 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.

• Conductor.

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.

Fri.

Bal.

Who is it?

Romeo.

Fri. How long hath he been there?
Bal.

Fri. Go with me to the vault.
Bal.

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.

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 dreamt my master and another fought,

And that my master slew him.

Romeo? [Advances.

Fri.
Alack, alack, what blood is this, which stains
The stony entrance of this sepulchre ?—
What mean these masterless and gory swords
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. O, comfortable friar! where is my lord?

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