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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 lantern, slaught'red 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 hath suck'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 chamber-maids; 0,
here

Will I set up my everlasting rest,

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And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last!

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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 apothe-
cary!

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Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die. [Dies.] Enter FRIAR LAURENCE, with lantern, crow, and spade.

Fri. L. Saint Francis be my speed! how oft

to-night

Have my old feet stumbled at graves! Who's

there?

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What torch is yond, that vainly lends his light To grubs and eyeless skulls? As I discern, 126 It burneth in the Capels' monument.

Bal. It doth so, holy sir; and there's my master,

One that you love.

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Stay not to question, for the watch is coming;
Come, go, good Juliet [Noise again], I dare no
longer stay.
Exit Fri. Lau.
Jul. Go, get thee hence, for I will not away.
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, 185
To make me die with a restorative.
Thy lips are warm.

Enter WATCH, with the PAGE of Paris. 1. Watch. 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 rust, and let me die.

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[Falls [on Romeo's body, and dies]. Page. This is the place; there, where the torch doth burn.

1. Watch. The ground is bloody; search about the churchyard.

Go, some of you, whoe'er you find attach. [Exeunt some.] Pitiful sight! here lies the County slain; And Juliet bleeding, warm, and newly dead, 175 Who here hath lain this two days buried. Go, tell the Prince; run to the Capulets; Raise up the Montagues; some others search. [Exeunt others.] We see the ground whereon these woes do lie;

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But the true ground of all these piteous woes We cannot without circumstance descry. Re-enter [some of the WATCH, with] BALTHASAR. 2. Watch. Here's Romeo's man; we found him in the churchyard.

1. Watch. Hold him in safety till the Prince come hither.

Re-enter another WATCHMAN, with FRIAR LAU

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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

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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 dooms-day, whose untimely death
Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from this
city,

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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 borrowed 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, 200
And bear this work of heaven with patience.
But then a noise did scare me from the tomb;

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Where's Romeo's man? What can he say to 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, 275 And threat'ned 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.

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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.

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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 whiles Verona by that name is known, 300
There shall no figure at such rate be set
As that of true and faithful Juliet.

Cap. As rich shall Romeo's by his lady's lie, Poor sacrifices of our enmity!

Prince. A glooming peace this morning with it brings;

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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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THE TRAGEDY OF JULIUS CÆSAR

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THE tragedy of Julius Cæsar was first printed in the Folio of 1623. The earlier limit for the date of its composition is presumably fixed by its absence from the list given in Meres's Palladis Tamia in 1598; and a later limit is found in an allusion to the speeches of Brutus and Antony to the citizens in John Weever's Mirror of Martyrs, published in 1601. But Weever states in his Dedication that his work " some two years ago was made fit for the print"; and this piece of evidence is strengthened by an apparent reference in Jonson's Every Man out of his Humour (1599). In this play (III. i.) Clove, a talker of fustian, is made to quote, reason long since is fled to animals," which may, perhaps, derive its point from Julius Cæsar, III. ii. 109. With the date thus suggested, 1599, the metrical tests and the characteristics of style are in sufficient agreement; and few modern critics place the play later than 1601. An argument has been based on the use of the word "eternal" in 1. ii. 160. In 1600, it is urged, Shakespeare was still using "infernal" in such passages, but after that date he substituted " eternal," apparently out of deference to the Puritan agitation which culminated in legislation against profanity and other abuses on the stage. But this loses its force when it is observed that the change may here, as in other instances, have been made at a later date, and that it is by no means certain that Shakespeare wished to say "infernal."

The history of Julius Cæsar had been treated on the Elizabethan stage before Shakespeare wrote his tragedy, but it has not yet been shown that he made use of any earlier version, though some scholars have argued that the present play is the result of the combination of two earlier dramas dealing respectively with the death and the avenging of Julius Cæsar. The evidence from an extant Dutch play of foreign origin has not yet been brought to bear on the problem. It is not questioned, however, that Shakespeare drew heavily on Plutarch's lives of Cæsar, Brutus, and Antony, which he read in Sir Thomas North's translation of Amyot's French version. A large portion of the play consists merely of North's language turned into blank verse, with that subtle heightening of the imaginative quality which Shakespeare habitually added to his sources; and much that has puzzled readers in the unheroic character of Cæsar finds its explanation in the text of Plutarch. Cæsar's great exploits are narrated in Plutarch's Life, but in the earlier part which Shakespeare did not use; and the later section taken alone conveys very much the same impression of Cæsar's pomposity and weaknesses as is given by the earlier part of the play. The characters of Casca and Lepidus are hardly hinted at by Plutarch. Cassius is strengthened by changing him from a man who was too familiar with his friends, and would jest too broadly with them," to one who smiles seldom, and by the omission of the petty causes of his hatred of Cæsar. Brutus is still more idealized. Several details that might have taken from his dignity are omitted, and the boy Lucius is invented that by the picture of their relations might be emphasized the tenderness of Brutus's disposition. The soliloquy of Brutus in which the workings of his mind before the assassination are laid bare, the scene in the orchard, that in which the conspirators bathe their arms in Cæsar's blood, and the speech of Antony over Cæsar's dead body are wholly Shakespeare's; while the orations of Brutus and Antony at Cæsar's funeral are elaborated from the slightest hints.

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SCENE: Rome; the neighbourhood of Sardis; the neighbourhood of Philippi.]

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Mar. Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home? What tributaries follow him to Rome

To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels? You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things!

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you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome,
Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft
Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements,
To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops,
Your infants in your arms, and there have sat s
The live-long day, with patient expectation,
To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome;
And when you saw his chariot but appear
Have you not made an universal shout,
That Tiber trembled underneath her banks
To hear the replication of your sounds
Made in her concave shores?

And do you now put on your best attire?
And do you now cull out a holiday?
And do you now strew flowers in his way
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood?
Be gone!

Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,
Pray to the gods to intermit the plague
That needs must light on this ingratitude.

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