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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