And here is come to do some villainous shame To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him.

[Advances.

Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague;
Can vengeance be pursued 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,
Heap not another sin upon my head,
By urging me to fury:-0, 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.
Pur. I do defy thy conjurations,9
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 [Exit Page. Par. O, I am slain! [Falls.]-If thou be merciful, Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet. [Dies.

watch.

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;-0, how may I
Call this a lightning ?-0, 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 favor 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 will still 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!

Enter, at the other End of the Churchyard, FRIAR
LAURENCE, with a Lantern, Crow, and Spade.
Fri. Saint Francis be my speed! how oft to-night
Have my old feet stumbled at graves!-Who's
there?
Who is it that consorts, so late, the dead?

Bal. Here's one, a friend, and one that knows you well.

Fri. Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend,

What torch is yond', that vainly lends his light I refuse to do as thou conjurest me to do, i.e. to depart. 1 Presence-chamber. 2 Conductor.

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.
Romeo! [Advances.
Alack, alack, what blood is this, which stains
The stony entrance of this sepulchre ?—
What mean these masterless and gory swords
To lie discolor'd by this place of peace?
[Enters the Monument.
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 and stirs.
Jul. 0, 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. 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, l'il 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 stay
no longer.
[Exit.

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! drink all; and leave 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!

1 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 rust, 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.

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,
Who here hath lain these two days buried.-
Go, tell the prince,-run to the Capulets,-
Raise up the Montagues,-some others search;-
[Exeunt other Watchmen.
We see the ground whereon these woes do lie;
But the true ground of all these piteous woes
We cannot without circumstance descry.

Enter some of the Watch, with BALTHAZAR. 2 Watch. Here's Romeo's man, we found him in the churchyard.

1 Watch. Hold him in safety, till the prince come hither.

This dagger hath mista'en,-for lo! his house3
Is empty on the back of Montague,-
And is mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom.
La. 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 de

scent;

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. 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. 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 dooms-day, whose untimely death
Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from this city;
For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pined.
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 means
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 at this dire night,
i. e. The scabbard.
• Seat.

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 staid 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 sacrificed, some hour before his time,
Unto the rigor 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.

Mercutio and Paris.

[Exeunt.