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Came I to take her from her kindred's vault;
Meaning to keep her closely at my cell,

Till I conveniently could send to Romeo.
But when I came, (some minute ere the time
Of her awaking) here untimely lay
The noble Paris, and true Romeo dead.
She wakes, and I entreated her come forth,
And bear this work of heav'n with patience :
But then a noise did scare me from the tomb,
And the, too desp'rate, would not go with me;
But, as it seems did violence on herself.
All this I know, and to the marriage
Her nurse is privy: but if aught in this
Miscarried by my fault, let my old life
Be facrific'd, fome hour before the time,
Unto the rigour of severest law.

Prince. We still have known thee for an holy man.
Where's Romeo's man? what can he say to this?

Balth. I brought my malter news of Juliet's death,
And then in post he came from Mantra
To this same place, to this same monument.
This letter he early bid me give his father,
And threatned me with death, going to the vault,
If i departed not, and left him there.

Prince. Give me the letter, I will look on it.
Where is the County's page, that rais'd the watch?
Sirrah, what made your master in this place ?

Page. He came with flowers to strew his lady's grave,
And bid me stand aloof, and so I did :
Anon comes one with light to ope the tomb,
And, by and by, my master drew on him ;
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 a poor 'pothecary, and therewithal
Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet.
Where be these enemies ? Capulet! Montague !
See, what a scourge is laid upon your hate,
That heav'n finds means to kill your joys with love!

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And I, for winking at your difcords too,
Have lost a brace of kinsmen: all are punish'd !

Cap. O brother Montague, give me thy hand,
This is my daughter's jointure; for no more
Can I demand.

Mon. But I can give thee more,
For I will raise her ftatue in pure gold;
That, while Verona by that name is known,
There shall no figure at that rate be set,
As that of true and faithful Juliet.

Ca . As rich shall Romei's by his lady lye:
Poor sacrifices of our enmity!
Prince. A gloomy peace this morning with it brings,

The sun for forrow will not thew his head; Go hence to have more talk of these sad things ;

Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished. For never was a story of more woe, Than this of Juliet, and her Romeo. [Exeunt omnes,

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