Law. Unhappy fortune! by my Brotherhood,
The letter was not nice, 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 ftraight
Unto my cell.
John. Brother, I'll go and bring it thee.
Law. Now muft I to the Monument alone;
Within these three hours will fair Juliet wake;
She will befhrew 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 coarfe, clos'd in a dead man's tomb!
Changes to a Church-yard: In it, a Monument belonging
Enter Paris and his Page, with a light.
IVE me thy torch, boy; hence and ftand aloof.
put it out, for I would not be seen :
Under yond yew-trees lay thee all along,
Laying thy ear clofe to the hollow ground;
So fhall no foot upon the church-yard tread,
(Being loose, unfirm, with digging up of Graves)
But thou fbalt hear it whistle then to me,
As fignal that thou hear'ft fomething approach.
Give me those flow'rs, Do as I bid thee, go.
Page. I am almost afraid to ftand alone
Here in the church-yard, yet I will adventure.
Par. Sweet flow'r! with flow'rs thy bridal bed I
Fair Juliet. that with angels doft remain,
Accept this latest favour at my hand;
That living honour'd thee, and, being dead,
With fun'ral obfequies adorn thy tomb.
-The boy gives warning, fomething doth ap-
proach;-
What curfed foot wanders this way to-night,
To cross my Obfequies, and true love's rite?
What! with a torch? muffle me, night, a while.
Enter Romeo and Balthafar with a light.
IVE 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'ft or feeft, ftand all aloof,
And do not interrupt me in my course.
Why I defcend 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; therefore, hence, be gone:
But if thou, jealous, doft return to pry
In what I further fhall intend to do,
By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint,
And ftrew this hungry church-yard with thy limbs; The time and my intents are favage, wild,
More fierce and more inexorable far
Than empty tygers, or the roaring fea.
Balth. I will be gone, Sir, and not trouble you. Rom. So fhalt thou fhew me Friendship.-Take thou that;
Live and be profp' rous, and farewel, good fellow. Balth. For all this fame, I'll hide me hereabout; His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt. [Exit Balth.
Rom. Thou deteftable maw, thou womb of death, Gorg'd with the deareft morfel of the earth, Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open,
[Breaking open the Monument.
And in defpight I'll cram thee with more food.
Par.. This is that banifht haughty Montague,
That murder'd my love's coufin; (with which grief,
It is fuppos'd the fair Creature dy'd,)
And here is come to do fome villanous fhame
To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him.
Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague :
Can vengeance be purfu'd further than death?
Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee;
Obey, and go with me, for thou must die.
Rom. I muft, indeed, and therefore came I hither.-
Good gentle youth, tempt not a defp'rate man;
Fly hence and leave me think upon these gone,
Let them affright thee. I befeech thee, youth,
Pull not another fin upon my head,
By urging me to fury. Oh be gone!
By heav'n, I love thee better than myfelf;
For I come hither arm'd against myself.
Stay not, begone; live, and hereafter fay,
A mad-man's Mercy bade thee run away.
Par. I do defy thy commiferation,
And apprehend thee for a felon here.
Rom. Wilt thou provoke me? then have at thee, [They fight, Paris falls.
Page. Oh lord, they fight! I will go call the Watch.
Par. Oh, I am flain; if thou be merciful,
Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet.
Rom. In faith, I will: let me peruse this face-
Mercutio's kinfman! Noble County Paris!
What faid my man, when my betoffed foul
Did not attend him as we rode ? I think,
He told me, Paris fhould have married Juliet.
Said he not fo? or did I dream it fo?
Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet,
To think it was fo? Oh give me thy hand,
One writ with me in four Misfortune's book,
I'll bury thee in a triumphant Grave.
A Grave? O no; a Lanthorn, flaughter'd Youth;
For here lies Juliet; and her beauty makes
This vault a feafting Prefence 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 fuckt the honey of thy breath,
Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty:
Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's enfign yet
Is crimson in thy lips, and in thy cheeks,
And death's pale flag is not advanced there.
Tybalt, ly't thou there in thy bloody fheet?
Oh, what more favour can I do to thee,
Than with that hand, that cut thy youth in twain,
To funder his, that was thy enemy?
Forgive me, coufin.Ah dear Juliet,
Why art thou yet fo fair? fhall I believe
That unfubftantial death is amorous,
And that the lean abhorred monster keeps
Thee here in dark, to be his paramour?
For fear of that, I ftill will ftay with thee;
And never from this Palace of dim night
Depart again: Here, here will I remain,
With worms that are my chamber-maids; oh here
Will I fet up my everlasting Rest;
And shake the yoke of inaufpicious ftars
From this world-weary'd flefh. Eyes, look your
Arms, take your last embrace! and lips, oh you
The doors of breath, feal with a righteous kifs.
A datelefs bargain to engroffing death!
Come, bitter conduct! come, unfav'ry guide!
Thou defp'rate pilot, now at once run on
The dafhing rocks my fea-fick, weary, bark:
Here's to my love! oh, true apothecary!
[Drinks the poifon. Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die. [Dies. Enter Friar Lawrence with lanthorn, crow, and spade. Fri. St. Francis by my fpeed! how oft to-night Have my old feet stumbled at graves ? who's there? Enter Balthafar.
Balth. Here's one, a friend, and one that knows you well.
Fri. Blifs be upon you! Tell me, good my friend,
What torch is yond, that vainly lends his light
To grubs and eyelefs fculls? as I difcern,
It burneth in the Capulets' Monument.
Balth. It doth fo, holy Sir,
And there's my mafter, one you dearly love.
Fri. Who is it?
Fri. How long hath he been there?
Balth. Full half an hour.
Fri. Go with me to the vault.
Balth. I dare not, Sir.
My mafter knows not, but I am gone hence;
And fearfully did menace me with death,
If I did ftay to look on his intents.
Fri. Stay then, I'll go alone; fear comes upon
O, much I fear fome ill unlucky thing.
Balth. As I did fleep under this yew-tree here,
I dreamt my mafter and another fought,
And that my mafter flew him..
Alack, alack, what blood is this, which ftains
The ftony entrance of this fepulchre ?
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