My master knows not, but I am gone hence; Fri. 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. 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 discolour'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. Ŏ, 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; 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 [Snatching Romeo's dagger. This is thy sheath; [Stabs herself.] there rust, and let me die. dagger! [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 church-yard: 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 the 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 Balthasar. 2 Watch. Here's Romeo's man, we found him in the church-yard. 1 Watch. Hold him in safety, till the prince come hither. Enter another Watchman, with Friar Laurence. 3 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 church-yard side. 1 Watch. A great suspicion; Stay the friar too. VOL. VIII. K 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? La. 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? 1 Watch. Sovereign, here lies the county Paris slain; And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before, Prince. Search, seek, and know how this foul murder comes. 1 Watch. Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Ro meo's man; With instruments upon them, fit to open These dead men's tombs. Cap. O, heavens!-O, wife! look how our daugh ter bleeds! This dagger hath mista'en,-for lo! his house! And is mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom. 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 wo conspires against mine age? Prince. Look, and thou shalt see. (1) i. e. The scabbard. 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, Fri. I am the greatest, able to do least, 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 ; The form of death: meantime I writ to Romeo, But he which bore my letter, friar John, Prince. We still have known thee for a holy man. 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; Prince. This letter doth make good the friar's Their course of love, the tidings of her death: |