SCENE III.

A Churchyard; in it, a Monument belonging to the
Capulets.

Enter PARIS, and his Page, bearing Flowers and a Torch.

[aloof;

Par. Give me thy torch, boy: Hence, and stand 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 churchyard tread, (Being loose, unfirm, with digging up of graves,) But thou shalt hear it: whistle then to me, As signal that thou hear'st something approach. Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go.

Page. I am almost afraid to stand alone

Here in the churchyard; yet I will adventure.

[Retires.

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

Sweet tomb, that in thy circuit dost contain

The perfect model of eternity;

Fair Juliet, that with angels dost remain,
Accept this latest favour at my hands;
That living honour'd thee, and, being dead,
With funeral praises do adorn thy tomb!

[The Boy whistles.

The boy gives warning, something doth approach.
What cursed foot wanders this way to-night,

To cross my obsequies, and true love's rites?

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.

* Par.] The lines spoken by Paris, in the folio, are

"Sweet flow'r, with flow'rs thy bridal bed I strew;
O woe! thy canopy is dust and stones,

Which with sweet water nightly will I dew,
Or wanting that, with tears distill'd by moans.
The obsequies that I for thee will keep,
Nightly shall be, to strew thy grave and weep.

The reading of the text is from the quarto of 1597.

[The Boy whistles."

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, doth return ́to pry

In what I further shall intend to do,

By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint,

And strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs :
The time and my intents are savage-wild;
More fierce, and more inexorable far,

Than empty tigers, or the roaring sea.

Bal. I will begone, 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. Thou détestable 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 villainous shame

To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him. [Advances.

Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague;

Can vengeance be pursu'd further than death?
Condemn'd villain, I do apprehend thee:

Obey, and go with me; for thou must die.

Rom. I must, indeed; and therefore came I hither.

- dear employment:] That is, action of importance. Gems were supposed

to have great powers and virtues.--JOHNSON.

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.

Par. I do defy thy conjurations,"

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 watch.

[Exit Page.

Par. O, I am slain! [falls.]—If thou be merciful, Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet.

:

[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 lantern,a 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.

I do defy thy conjurations,] i. e. I refuse to depart as thou conjurest me to do. To defy, in our old authors, frequently means to disdain, refuse, or deny.— MALONE and STEEVENS.

a — a lantern,] i. e. A louvre, or what in ancient records is styled lanternium, i. e. a spacious round or octagonal turret full of windows, by means of which cathedrals, and sometimes halls, are illuminated. See the beautiful lantern at Ely minster.-STERVENS.

с

by a dead man interr'd.] Romeo being now determined to put an end to his life, considers himself as already dead.-MALONE.

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 ?d-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?
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 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!
Thy drugs are quick.—Thus with a kiss I die.

O, how

may 1

[Dies.f

Call this a lightning?] Romeo had, just before, been in high spirits, a symptom, which he observes, was sometimes called a lightning before death: but how, says he, can I term this sad and gloomy prospect a lightning?— RITSON.

-conduct,] For conductor.

Dies.] Shakspeare has been arraigned for departing from the Italian novel, in making Romeo die before Juliet awakes from her trance; and thus losing a happy opportunity of introducing an affecting scene between these unfortu

Enter, at the 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 ?s-Who's there? Who is it that consorts, so late, the dead?h

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 To grubs and eyeless sculls? as I discern,

It burneth in the Capels' monument.

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

Fri.

Bal.

Fri. How long hath he been there?
Bal.

Who is it?

Romeo.

Full half an hour.

I dare not, sir:

Fri. Go with me to the vault.
Bal.

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 :-
O, much I fear some ill unlucky thing.

:-Fear comes upon me;

Bal. As I did sleep under this yew-tree here,

I dreamt my master and another fought,i
And that my master slew him.

Fri.

Romeo?

[Advances.

nate lovers. But he undoubtedly had never read the Italian novel or any literal translation of it, and was misled by the poem of Romeus and Juliet, the author of which departed from the Italian story, making the poison take effect on Romeo before Juliet awakes.-MALONE.

Have my old feet stumbled at graves?] This accident was reckoned ominous. -STEEVENS.

h consorts,] i.e. Keeps company with.-STEEVENS.

i I dreamt my master and another fought,] This is one of the touches of nature that would have escaped the hand of any painter less attentive to it than Shakspeare. What happens to a person while he is under the manifest influence of fear, will seem to him, when he is recovered from it, like a dream. Homer, book 8th, represents Rhesus dying fast asleep, and as it were beholding his enemy in a dream plunging a sword into his bosom. Eustathius and Dacier both applaud this image as very natural; for a man in such a condition, says Mr. Pope, awakes no further than to see confusedly what environs him, and to think it not a reality, but a vision.-STEEVENS.