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My master knows not but I am gone hence; 132 Go, some of you; whoe'er you find, attach. And fearfully did menace me with death

[Exeunt some oj the Watch. If I did stay to look on his intents.

Pitiful sight! bere lies the county slain, Fri. L. Stay then, I'll go alone. Fear comes And Juliet bleeding, warm, and newly dead, upon me;

Who here hath lain these two days buried. 176 Ol much I fear some ill unlucky thing. 136 Go, tell the prince, run to the Capulets,

Bal. As I did sleep under this yew-tree here, Raise up the Montagues, some others search: I dreamt my master and another fought,

[Exeunt others of the Watch. And that my master slew him.

We see the ground whereon these woes do
Fri. L. [Advances.] Romeo!
Alack, alack! what blood is this which stains 140 But the true ground of all these piteous woes
The stony entrance of this sepulchre ?

We cannot without circumstance descry.
What mean these masterless and gory swords
To lie discolour'd by this place of peace?

Re-enter some of the Watch, with BAL[Enters the tomb.

THASAR. Romeo! O, pale! Who else? what! Paris too? Sec. Watch. Here's Romeo's man; we found And steep'd in blood? Abl what an unkind him in the churchyard. hour

145 First Watch. Hold him in safety, till the Is guilty of this lamentable chance.

prince come hither. The lady stirs.

[JULIET wakes. Jul. O, comfortable friarl where is my lord?

Re-enter other of the Watch, with FRIAR I do remember well where I should be,

LAURENCE. And there I am. Where is my Romeo?

Third Watch. Here is a friar, that trembles, [Noise within. sighs, and weeps;

184 Fri. L. I hear some noise. Lady, come from We took this mattock and this spade from him, that nest

As he was coming from this churchyard side. Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep: 152 First Watch. A great suspicion: stay the A greater power than we can contradict

friar too.

187 Hath thwarted our intents: come, come away. Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead;

Enter the PRINCE and Attendants. And Paris too: come, I'll dispose of thee 156 Prince. What misadventure is so early up, Among a sisterhood of holy nuns.

That calls our person from our morning's rest? Stay not to question, for the watch is coming; Come, go, good Juliet.—[Noise again.] I dare

Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and Others. no longer stay.

Cap. What should it be, that they so shriek Jul. Go, get thee hence, for I will not away. abroad?

[Exit FRIAR LAURENCE. Lady Cap. The people in the street cry What's here? a cup, clos'd in my true love's Romeo, hand?

161 Some Juliet, and some Paris; and all run Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end. With open outcry toward our monument. O churll drunk all, and left no friendly drop Prince. What fear is this which starties in To help me after! I will kiss thy lips; 164

our ears? Haply, some poison yet doth hang on them, First Watch. Sovereign, here lies the County To make me die with a restorative. [Kisses him. Paris slain; Thy lips are warm!

And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before, 196 First Watch. [Within.) Lead, boy: which way? Warm and new kill'd. Jul. Yea, noise ? then I'll be brief. O happy Prince. Search, seek, and know how this foul dagger! [Snatching ROMEO's dagger.

murder comes. This is thy sheath; [Stabs herself. ] there rest, First Watch. Here is a friar, and slaughter'd and let ine die.


Romeo's man; [Falls on RoMEO's body and dies. With instruments upon them, fit to open

These dead men's tombs. Enter Watch, with the Page of Paris.

Cap. O, heaven!-- wife! look how our Page. This is the place; there where the daughter bleeds! torch doth burn.

This dagger hath mista'en!-for, lo, his house First Watch. The ground is bloody; search Is empty on the back of Montagueabout the churchyard.

172 | And is mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom.


204 268



Lady Cap. O mel this sight of death is as a To help to take her from her borrow'd grave, 248 bell,

Being the time the potion's force should That warns my old age to a sepulchre.


But he which bore my letter, Friar John,
Enter MONTAGUE and Others.

Was stay'd by accident, and yesternight

Return'd my letter back. Then, all alone, 252 Prince. Come, Montague: for thou art early At the prefixed hour of her waking, up,

208 Came I to take her from her kindred's vault, To see thy son and heir more early down. Meaning to keep her closely at my cell, Mon. Alasl my liege, my wife is dead to- Till I conveniently could send to Romeo: 256 night;

But, when I came, --some minute ere the Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath. time What further woe conspires against mine Of her awakening,-here untimely lay age?

212 The noble Paris and true Romeo dead. Prince. Look, and thou shalt see.

She wakes; and I entreated her come forth, 260 Mon. O thou untaught! what manners is in And bear this work of heaven with patience; this,

But then a noise did scare me from the tomb, To press before thy father to a grave?

And she, too desperate, would not go with Prince. Seal up the mouth of outrage for a me, while,

216 But, as it seems, did violence on herself. 264 Till we can clear these ambiguities,

Ail this I know; and to the marriage And know their spring, their head, their true Her nurse is privy: and, if aught in this descent;

Miscarried by my fault, let my old life
And then will I be general of your woes, Be sacrific'd, some hour before his time,
And lead you even to death: meantime for- Unto the rigour of severest law.

Prince. We still have known thee for a holy
And let mischance be slave to patience.
Bring forth the parties of suspicion.

Where's Romeo's man? what can he say in Fri. L. I am the greatest, able to do least,

this? Yet most suspected, as the time and place 224 Bal. I brought my master news of Juliet's Doth make against me, of this direful murder; death;

272 And here I stand, both to impeach and purge And then in post he came from Mantua Myself condemned and myself excus'd.

To this same place, to this same monument. Prince. Then say at once what thou dost This letter he early bid me give his father, know in this.

228 And threaten’d me with death, going in the Fri. L. I will be brief, for my short date of vault,

276 breath

If I departed not and left him there. Is not so long as is a tedious tale.

Prince. Give me the letter; I will look on it. Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet; Where is the county's page that rais'd the And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife: watch? I married them; and their stolen marriage-day Sirrah, what made your master in this place? Was Tybalt's doomsday, whose untimely death Page. He came with flowers to strew his Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from this lady's grave, city;

And bid me stand aloof, and so I did; For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pin'd. 236 Anon, comes one with light to ope the tomb; You, to remove that siege of grief from her, And by and by my master drew on him; Betroth’d, and would have married her perforce, And then I ran away to call the watch. To County Paris: then comes she to me,

Prince. This letter doth make good the friar's And, with wild looks bid me devise some mean words, To rid her from this second marriage, 241 Their course of love, the tidings of her death: Or in my cell there would she kill herself. And here he writes that he did buy a poison 288 Then gave I her,--so tutor'd by my art, - Of a poor 'pothecary, and therewithal A sleeping potion; which so took effect 244 Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet. As I intended, for it wrought on her

Where be these enemies?—Capulet! Montague! The form of death: meantime I writ to Romeo See what a scourge is laid upon your hate, 292 That he should hither come as this dire That heaven finds means to kill your joys with night,





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And I, for winking at your discords too, As that of true and faithful Juliet.
Have lost a brace of kinsmen: all are punish'd. Cap. As rich shall Romeo by his lady lie;
Cap. O brother Montague! give me thy Poor sacrifices of our enmity!

304 hand:

296 Prince. A glooming peace this morning with This is my daughter's jointure, for no more

it brings; Can I demand.

The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head: Mon. But I can give thee more;

Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things: For I will raise her statue in pure gold;

Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished: That while Verona by that name is known. 300 For never was a story of more woe There shall no figure at such rate be set Than this of Juliet and her Romeo. [Exeunt.




TIMON, a noble Athenian.

Servants of Ventidius, and of Varro and Isidore LUCIUS,

(two of Timon's Creditors). LUCULLUS, flattering Lords.

Three Strangers. SEMPRONIUS,

An Old Athenian. VENTIDIUS, one of Timon's false Friends. A Page. • APEMANTUS, a churlish Philosopher.

A Fool.
ALCIBIADES, an Athenian Captain.

Poet, Painter, Jeweller, and Merchant.
FLAVIU3, Steward to Timon.

LUCILIUS, Servants to Timon.

Lords, Senators, Officers, Soldiers, Thieves, and TITUS,

Servants to Timon's Creditors. Attendants.

CUPID and Amazons in the Masque.
SCENE.-Athens, and the neighbouring Woods.

TIMANDRA, } Mistresses to Alcibiades.




It stains the glory in that happy verse SCENE I.-Athens. A Hall in TIMON's House. Which aptly sings the good.

Mer. (Looking at the jewel.] 'Tis a good Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Merchant, and form. Others, at several doors.

Jew. And rich: here is a water, look ye. Poet. Good day, sir.

Pain. You are rapt, sir, in some work, some Pain.

I am glad you're well. dedication Poet. I have not seen you long. How goes To the great lord. the world?


A thing slipp'd idly from me.
Pain. It wears, sir, as it grows.

Our poesy is as a gum, which oozes

Ay, that's well known; From whence 'tis nourish'd: the fire i' the flint
But what particular rarity? what strange, 4 Shows not till it be struck; our gentle flame
Which manifold record not matches? See, Provokes itself, and, like the current fies 24
Magic of bounty! all these spirits thy power Each bound it chafes. What have you there?
Hath conjur'd to attend. I know the merchant. Pain. A picture, sir. When comes your
Pain. I know them both; th' other's a book forth?

Poet. Upon the heels of my presentment, sir.
Mer. OI 'tis a worthy lord.

Let's see your piece.

Nay, that's most fix'd. Pain. 'Tis a good piece.
Mer. A most incomparable man, breath'd, as Poet. So 'tis: this comes off well and excel.
it were,

lent. To an untirable and continuate goodness:

Pain. Indifferent. He passes.


Admirable! How this grace Jew. I have a jewel here

12 Speaks his own standing! what a mental power Mer. O! pray, let's see 't: for the Lord This eye shoots forth! how big imagination 33 Timon, sir?

Moves in this lip! to the dumbness of the Jew. If he will touch the estimate: but, for gesture that

One might interpret. Poet. When we for recompense have prais'd Pain. It is a pretty mocking of the life. 36 the vile

Here is a touch; is 't good?


28 40






I'll say of it, Some better than his value, on the moment sa It tutors nature: artificial strife

Follow his strides, his lobbies fill with tendance, Lives in these touches, livelier than life. Rain sacrificial whisperings in his ear,

Make sacred even his stirrup, and through him Enter certain Senators, who pass over the stage. Drink the free air. Pain. How this lord is follow'd!


Ay, marry, what of these? 84 Poet. The senators of Athens: happy man! Poet. When Fortune in her shift and change Pain. Look, more!

of mood Poet. You see this confluence, this great Spurns down her late belov'd, all his dependants flood of visitors.

Which labour'd after him to the mountain's I have, in this rough work, shap'd out a man, 44 top Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug Even on their knees and hands, let him slip With amplest entertainment: my free drift

down, Halts not particularly, but moves itself Not one accompanying his declining foot. In a wide sea of wax: no levell’d malice

Pain. 'Tis common: Infects one comma in the course I hold; A thousand moral paintings I can show But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on, That shall demonstrate these quick blows of Leaving no tract behind.

Fortune's Pain. How shall I understand you? More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well Poel.

I will unbolt to you. 52 To show Lord Timon that mean eyes have seen
You see how all conditions, how all minds— The foot above the head.
As well of glib and slippery creatures as
Of grave and austere quality-tender down Trumpets sound. Enter LORD TIMON, address-
Their services to Lord Timon: his large fortune, ing himself courteously to every suitor; a
Upon his good and gracious nature banging, 57 Messenger from VENTIDIUS talking with him;
Subdues and properties to his love and tend-

LUCILIUS and other servants following.

Imprison'd is he, say you? All sorts of hearts; yea, from the glass-fac'd Mess. Ay, my good lord: five talents is his flatterer


To Apemantus, that few things loves better 60 His means most short, his creditors most strait:
Than to abhor himself: even he drops down Your honourable letter be desires
The knee before him and returns in peace To those have shut him up; which, failing,
Most rich in Timon's nod.

Periods his comfort.
I saw them speak together. Tim.

Noble Ventidius! Well; 100 Poet. Sir, I have upon a high and pleasant I am not of that feather to shake off hill

64 My friend when he must need me. I do know Feign'd Fortune to be thron'd: the base o' the him mount

A gentleman that well deserves a help, Is rank'd with all deserts, all kind of natures, Which he shall have: I'll pay the debt and free That labour on the bosom of this sphere

him. To propagate their states: amongst them all, 68 Mess. Your lordship ever binds him. Whose eyes are on this sovereign lady fix'd, Tim. Commend me to him. I will send his One do I personate of Lord Timon's frame,

ransom; Whom Fortune with her ivory hand wafts to And being enfranchis'd, bid him come to me. her;

'Tis not enough to help the feeble up, Whose prezent grace to present slaves and But to support him after. Fare you well. servants

72 Mess. All happiness to your honour. [Exit. Translates his rivals. Pain. 'Tis conceiv'd to scope.

Enter an Old Athenian. This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, me- Old Ath. Lord Timon, hear me speak. thinks,


Freely, good father. With one man beckon'd from the rest below, Old Ath. Thou hast a servant nam'd Lucilius. Bowing his head against the steepy mount 76 Tim. I have so: what of him?

113 To climb his happiness, would be well express'd Old Ath. Most noble Timon, call the man In our condition.

before thee. Poet.

Nay, sir, but hear me on. Tim. Attends he here or no? Lucilius! All those which were his fellows but of late, Luc. Here, at your lordship's service.

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