The Same. A Churchyard; in it a Monument belonging to the CAPULETS. |
| |
Enter PARIS, and his Page, bearing flowers and a torch. |
| Par. Give me thy torch, boy: hence, and stand aloof; |
| Yet put it out, for I would not be seen. |
| Under yond yew-trees lay thee all along, |
| Holding thine ear close to the hollow ground: |
| So shall no foot upon the churchyard 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. [Aside.] I am almost afraid to stand alone |
| Here in the churchyard; yet I will adventure. [Retires. |
| Par. Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal bed I strew, |
| O woe! thy canopy is dust and stones; |
| Which with sweet water nightly I will dew, |
| Or, wanting that, with tears distill'd by moans: |
| The obsequies that I for thee will keep |
| Nightly shall be to strew thy grave and weep. [The Page whistles. |
| The boy gives warning something doth approach. |
| What cursed foot wanders this way to-night, |
| To cross my obsequies and true love's rite? |
| What! with a torch?—muffle me, night, awhile. [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: 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. [Aside.] For all this same, I'll hide me here about: |
| His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt. [Retires. |
| Rom. Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death, |
| Gorg'd with the dearest morsel of the earth, |
| Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open, [Opens the tomb. |
| 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.— [Comes forward. |
| 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, |
| Put 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, be gone; live, and hereafter say |
| A madman's mercy bade thee run away. |
| Par. I do defy thy conjurations, |
| And apprehend thee for a felon here. |
| Rom. Wilt thou provoke me? then have at thee, boy! [They fight. |
| Page. O Lord! they fight: I will go call the watch. [Exit. |
| Par. [Falls.] O, I am slain!—If thou be merciful, |
| Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet. [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; |
| A grave? O, no! a lanthorn, 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 tomb. |
| 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 hathsuck'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 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 still will 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 lanthorn, crow, and spade. |
| Fri. L. Saint Francis be my speed! how oft to-night |
| Have my old feet stumbled at graves! Who's there? |
| Bal. Here's one, a friend, and one that knows you well. |
| Fri. L. 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 Capel's monument. |
| Bal. It doth so, holy sir; and there's my master, |
| One that you love. |
| Fri. L. Who is it? |
| Bal. Romeo. |
| Fri. L. How long hath he been there? |
| Bal. Full half an hour. |
| Fri. L. Go with me to the vault. |
| Bal. 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. L. 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. |
| Fri. L. [Advances.] Romeo! |
| 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 tomb. |
| 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. |
| Jul. O, comfortable friar! where is my lord? |
| I do remember well where I should be, |
| And there I am. Where is my Romeo? [Noise within. |
| Fri. L. I hear some noise. Lady, come from that nest |
| 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 no longer stay. |
| Jul. Go, get thee hence, for I will not away. [Exit FRIAR LAURENCE. |
| What's here? a cup, clos'd in my true love's hand? |
| Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end. |
| O churl! drunk all, and left 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! |
| First 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 rest, 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. |
| First Watch. The ground is bloody; search about the churchyard. |
| Go, some of you; whoe'er you find, attach. [Exeunt some of the Watch. |
| 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 others of the Watch. |
| We see the ground whereon these woes do lie; |
| But the true ground of all these piteous woes |
| We cannot without circumstance descry. |
| |
Re-enter some of the Watch, with BALTHASAR. |
| Sec. Watch. Here's Romeo's man; we found him in the churchyard. |
| First Watch. Hold him in safety, till the prince come hither. |
| |
Re-enter other of the Watch, with FRIAR LAURENCE. |
| Third Watch. Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs, and weeps; |
| We took this mattock and this spade from him, |
| As he was coming from this churchyard side. |
| First Watch. A great suspicion: stay the friar too. |
| |
Enter the PRINCE and Attendants. |
| 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 abroad? |
| Lady 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? |
| First Watch. Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain; |
| And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before, |
| Warm and new kill'd. |
| Prince. Search, seek, and know how this foul murder comes. |
| First 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, heaven!—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. |
| Lady Cap. O me! this sight of death is as a bell, |
| That warns my old age to a sepulchre. |
| Cap. O, heaven!—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. |
| Lady 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 woe 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 descent; |
| And then will I be general of your woes, |
| And lead you even to death: meantime forbear, |
| And let mischance be slave to patience. |
| Bring forth the parties of suspicion. |
| Fri. L. 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 condemned and myself excus'd. |
| Prince. Then say at once what thou dost know in this. |
| Fri. L. 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, |
| Betroth'd, and would have married her perforce, |
| To County Paris: then comes she to me, |
| And, with wild looks bid me devise some mean |
| To rid her from this second marriage, |
| Or in my cell there would she kill herself. |
| Then gave I her,—so tutor'd by my art,— |
| A sleeping potion; which so took effect |
| As I intended, for it wrought on her |
| The form of death: meantime I writ to Romeo |
| That he should hither come as this dire night, |
| To help to take her from her borrow'd grave, |
| Being the time the potion's force should cease. |
| But he which bore my letter, Friar John, |
| Was stay'd by accident, and yesternight |
| Return'd my letter back. Then, all alone, |
| At the prefixed hour of her waking, |
| 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 awakening,—here untimely lay |
| The noble Paris and true Romeo dead. |
| She wakes; and I entreated her come forth, |
| And bear this work of heaven with patience; |
| But then a noise did scare me from the tomb, |
| And she, too desperate, 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: and, if aught in this |
| Miscarried by my fault, let my old life |
| Be sacrific'd, some hour before his time, |
| Unto the rigour of severest law. |
| Prince. We still have known thee for a holy man. |
| Where's Romeo's man? what can he say in this? |
| Bal. I brought my master news of Juliet's death; |
| And then in post he came from Mantua |
| To this same place, to this same monument. |
| This letter he early bid me give his father, |
| And threaten'd me with death, going in 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 heaven finds means to kill your joys with love; |
| And I, for winking at your discords 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 statue in pure gold; |
| That while Verona by that name is known. |
| There shall no figure at such rate be set |
| As that of true and faithful Juliet. |
| Cap. As rich shall Romeo by his lady lie; |
| Poor sacrifices of our enmity! |
| Prince. A glooming peace this morning with it brings; |
| The sun, for sorrow, will not show 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. |
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