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Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess'd,
When but love's shadows are so rich in joy!
Enter BALTHASAR.

News from Verona!-How now, Balthasar?
Dost thou not bring me letters from the friar?
How doth my lady? Is my father well?
How doth my lady Juliet ? That I ask again;
For nothing can be ill, if she be well.

Bal. Then she is well, and nothing can be ill.
Her body sleeps in Capel's monument,
And her immortal part with angels lives.
I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault,
And presently took post to tell it you:
O pardon me for bringing these ill news,
Since you did leave it for my office, sir.

Rom. Is it even so? then I defy you, stars!Thou know'st my lodging: get me ink and paper, And hire post-horses; and I will hence to-night. Bal. I do be seech you, sir, have patience. 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.

No matter get thee gone, And hire those horses; I'll be with thee straight. [Exit BALTHASAR.

O, mischief! thou art swift
To enter in the thoughts of desperate men?
I do remember an apothecary,-
And hereabouts he dwells,-which late I noted
In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows,
Culling of simples; meagre were his looks,
Sharp misery had worn him to the bones.
And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,
An alligator stuff'd, and other skins
Of ill-shap'd fishes; and about his shelves
A beggarly account of empty boxes,
Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds,
Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses,
Were thinly scatter'd to make up a show.
Noting this penury, to myself I said—
And if a man did need a poison now,
Whose sale is present death in Mantua,
Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.
O, this same thought did but forerun my need;
And this same needy man must sell it me.
As I remember, this should be the house:
Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut.-
What, ho! apothecary!

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Then be not poor, but break it, and take this.
Ap. My poverty, but not my will consents.
Rom. 1 pray thy poverty, and not thy will.
Ap. Put this in any liquid thing you will,
And drink it off; and, if you had the strength
Of twenty men, it would despatch you straight.
Rom. There is thy gold; worse poison to men's
souls,

Doing more murther in this loathsome world, Than these poor compounds that thou may'st not sell;

I sell thee poison, thou hast sold me none.
Farewell buy food, and get thyself in flesh.-
Come, cordial, and not poison; go with me
To Juliet's grave, for there must I use thee

[Exeunt. SCENE.-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 stand
aloof;-

Yet put it out, for I would not be seen.
Under yon yew-trees lay thee all along,
Holding thine ear close to the hollow ground;
So shall no foot upon the church-yard tread
(Being loose, unfirm, with digging up of graves,)
But thou shalt hear it: whistle then to me,
As signal that thou hearest something approach.
Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go.
Page. I am almost afraid to stand alone
Here in the church-yard; yet I will adventure.
[Retires.

Par. Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal-bed
I strew:

woe, thy canopy is dust and stones,' Which with sweet water nightly I will dew, Or wanting that, with tears distill'd by moans; The obsequies that I for thee will keep, Nightly shall be, to strew thy grvae and weep. [The Boy whistles. The boy gives warning, something doth approach. What cursed foot wanders this way to-night, To cross my obsequies, aud true-love's rite? What, with a torch!-muffle me, night, awhile. [Retires.

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
See thou deliver it to my lord and father.
Give me the light; Upon thy life I charge thee,
Whate'er thou hear'st or seest, stand all aloof,
And do not interrupt me in my course.
Why I descend into this bed of death,
Is, partly, to behold my lady's face:
But, chiefly, to take thence from her dead finger
A precious ring; a ring that I must use
In dear employment: therefore hence, be gone:-
But if thou, jealous, dost return to pry
In what I further shall intend to do,
More fierce, and more inexorable far,
Than empty tigers or the roaring sea.

Bl. I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you. Rom. So shalt thou show me friendship.-Take thou that:

Live and be prosperous; and farewell, good fellow.
Bal. For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout;
His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt. [Retires.
Rom. Thon detestable maw, thou womb of
death,

Gorg'd with the dearest morsel of the earth,
Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open.

[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 grief

It is supposed the fair creature died,-
And here is come to do some villanous 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.

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; 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!

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 apothecary;

Rom. I must indeed; and therefore came I Thy drugs are quick. Thus, with a kiss I die. 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,
Put not another sin upon my head,
By urging me to fury :-O, 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.
Par. I do defy thy commiseration,
And apprehend thee for 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. Enter, at the other end of the church-yard, Friar LAURENCE, with a lantern, crow, and spade. Fri. Saint Francis be my speed! how oft tonight [there? Have my old feet stumbled at graves!-Who's 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 this light
To grubs and eyeless skulls; as I discern,
It burneth in the Capels' monument.

Bal. It doth so, holy sir; and there's my master,
One that you love.
Who is it?

Fri.
Bal.

[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 ?-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 lanthern, 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 ?-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?

Romeo.
Fri. How long hath he been there?
Bal.

Full half an hour.
Fri. Go with me to the vault.
Bal.

I dare not, sir;

My master knows not but I am gone hence;
And fearfully did menace me with death,
If I did stay to look on his intents.

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?
Is guilty of this lamentable chance !—
And steep'd in blood?-Ah, what an unkind hour
The lady stirs.
[JULIET wakes and stirs.
Jul. O 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

* Conductor.

U

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, I'll 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 no
longer stay.
[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 left 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!

I 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.

END OF THE TRAGEDIES AND HISTORICAL PLAYS.

BILLING, PRINTER AND STEREOTYPER, GUILDFORD, SURREY.

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