Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open. [Breaking open the Monument. And, in despight, I'll cram thee with more food. Paris. [Showing himself:] Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague! Can vengeance be pursu'd farther than death ? Rom. I must, indeed, and therefore came I hither Good, gentle youth, tempt not a desp'rate man; By Heav'n, I love thee better than myself; Rom. Wilt thou provoke me? then have at thee, boy? [They fight; PARIS falls. Par. Oh, I am slain! if thou be merciful, Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet. [Dies. Rom. In faith, I will: let me peruse this faceMercutio's kinsman! Noble county Paris! Give me thy hand, One writ with me in sour misfortune's book: I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave; For here lies Juliet. [Breaks open the Tomb.] Oh, my love! my wife! Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath, And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars Come, bitter conduct; come, unsav'ry guide, Thou desp❜rate pilot, now at once run on The dashing rocks my sea-sick, weary bark: No more-here's to my love!-eyes, look your last : Jul. Where am I? [JULIET wakes. Rom. She speaks, she lives! and we shall still be bless'd! My kind propitious stars o'erpay me now, For all my sorrows past-Rise, rise, my Juliet, And call thee back to life and love. [Takes her Hand. Jul. Bless me! how cold it is! who's there? 'Tis thy Romeo, Juliet; rais'd from despair [Brings her from the Tomb. Jul. Why do you force me so?—I'll ne'er con sent My strength may fail me, but my will's unmov'd,I'll not wed Paris,-Romeo is my husband Rom. Romeo is thy husband; I am that Romeo, Nor all the opposing pow'rs of earth or man, Shall break our bonds, or tear thee from my heart. Jul. I know that voice-Its magic sweetness wakes My tranced soul-I now remember well Each circumstance-Oh, my lord! my husband!—[Going to embrace him. Dost thou avoid me, Romeo? let me touch Thy hand, and touch the cordial of thy lips You fright me▬▬ -speak-oh, let me hear some voice H Rom. Oh, I cannot; I have no strength, but want thy feeble aid. Jul. Poison! what means my lord? thy trembling voice! 1 Pale lips, and swimming eyes! death's in thy face! Rom. I know not that I thought thee dead: distracted at the sight, Jul. And did I wake for this! Rom. My pow'rs are blasted; "Twixt death and love I'm torn-I am distracted! But death iss trongest-And must I leave thee, Juliet! Oh, cruel, cursed fate! in sight of Heav'n Jul. Thou rav'st-lean on my breast. Rom. Fathers have flinty hearts, no tears can melt them: Nature pleads in vain-Children must be wretchedJul. Oh, my breaking heart! Rom. She is my wife-our hearts are twin'd together Capulet, forbear--Paris, loose your hold Pull not our heart-strings thus they crack, they break Oh, Juliet! Juliet! [Dies. Enter FRIAR LAWRENCE, with Lanthorn, Crow, and Spade. Fri. St. Francis be my speed: how oft to-night, Have my old feet stumbled at graves! who's there? Alack! alack! what blood is this, which stains The stony entrance of this sepulchre? Jul. Who's there? Fri. Ah, Juliet awake, and Romeo dead! Jul. Here he is still, and I will hold him fast; Fri. Patience, lady— Jul. Who is that? O, thou cursed Friar! patience! Talk'st thou of patience to a wretch like me! Fri. O, fatal error! rise, thou fair distress'd, And fly this scene of death! Jul. Come thou not near me, Or this dagger shall quit my Romeo's death! [Draws a Dagger. Fri. I wonder not, thy griefs have made thee desperate. What noise without? sweet Juliet, let us fly- - Stay not to question-for the watch is coming. Then I'll be brief-Oh, happy dagger! [Kills herself. Enter the PRINCE, BALTHASAR, and ATTENDANTS, with the FRIAR. Prince. What misadventure is so early up, That calls our person from its morning rest? Enter CAPULET. Cap. What should it be, that they so shriek abroad! The people in the street cry, Romeo! Some, Juliet! and some, Paris! and all run Prince. What fear is this, which startles in your ears? Bal. Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain, And Romeo dead-Juliet, thought dead before, Is warm, and newly kill'd Cap. Oh me! this sight of death is as a bell, That warns my old age to a sepulchre. Enter MONTAGUE. Prince. Come, Montague, for thou art early up, To see thy son and heir now early fall'n. Mont. Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night; Grief of my son's exile has stopp'd her breath. What farther woe conspires against my age! Prince. Look there-and see Mont. Oh, 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 and head-meantime forbear, Fri. I am the greatest. |