Thou know'st my lodging: get me ink and paper, And hire post-horses; I will hence to-night. Bal. Pardon me, sir, I will not leave you thus: Your looks are pale and wild, and do import Some misadventure. Rom. Tush, thou art deceiv'd; Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do; Hast thou no letters to me from the friar? Bal. No, my good lord. Rom. And hereabouts he dwells,-whom late I noted Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds, Ap. Enter Apothecary. Who calls so loud? Rom. Come hither, man.-I see, that thou art poor; Hold, there is forty ducats; let me have As violently, as hasty powder fir'd ness, And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks, Doing more murders in this loathsome world, Than these poor compounds that thou may'st not sell : I sell thee poison, thou hast sold me none. SCENE II. Friar Laurence's Cell. Enter FRIAR JOHN. John. Holy Franciscan friar! brother, ho! Enter FRIAR LAURENCE. Lau. This same should be the voice of Friar Welcome from Mantua; What says Romeo? And finding him, the searchers of the town, John. I could not send it,-here it is again,Nor get a messenger to bring it thee, So fearful were they of infection. Lau. 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 straight Unto my cell. John. Brother, I'll go and bring it thee. [Exit. Lau. Now must I to the monument alone; Within this three hours will fair Juliet wake; She will beshrew 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 corse, clos'd in a dead man's tomb! SCENE III. [Exit. A Church Yard: 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 Yet put it out, for I would not be seen. Par. Sweet flower, with flowers I strew thy bridal bed: Sweet tomb, that in thy circuit dost contain Fair Juliet, that with angels dost remain, [The Boy whistles. The boy gives warning, something doth approach. What cursed foot wanders this way to-night, 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 In dear employment: therefore hence, be By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint, The time and my intents are savage wild; Bal. I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you. Rom. So shalt thou show me friendship.take thou that: [fellow. Live, and be prosperous; and farewell, good Bal. For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout: 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, [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 It is supposed the fair creature died,- [grief, And here is come to do some villanous shame To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him.- Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague; 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, By heaven, I love thee better than myself: And do attach thee as 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 Page. Par. O, I am slain! [Falls.]-If thou be mer ciful, 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 ?-0, 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 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 ?-0, my love! my wife! |