Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet With worms that are thy chambermaids; O, here 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 [Dies. Enter at the other 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? Who's there? 1 Conductor. Who is it that consorts, so late, the dead? 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 Bal. It doth so, holy sir; and there's my mas My master knows not, but I am gone hence; Fri. Stay then, I'll go alone: O, much I fear some ill unlucky thing. - Fear comes Bal. As I did sleep under this yew-tree here, 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. Who else? what, Paris, too? And steep'd in blood? Ah, what an unkind Romeo! O, pale! hour Is guilty of this lamentable chance! The lady stirs. [JULIET wakes and stirs. Jul. O, comfortable friar! where is my lord? I do remember well where I should be, [Noise within. - Lady, come from that 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! 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. 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 churchyard: Go, some of you, who e'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. some others search; [Exeunt 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 churchyard. 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 churchyard side. 1 Watch. A great suspicion; Stay the friar too." 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 Some Juliet, and some - Romeo, 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 Romeo's man; With instruments upon them, fit to open Cap. O, heavens!-O, wife! look how our daughter bleeds! This dagger hath mista'en, for lo! his house' Is empty on the back of Montague, 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 woe conspires against mine age? Prince. Look, and thou shalt see. 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, 2 i. c. The scabbard. |