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A CT V. SCENE I.

SCEN E Mantua.

Enter Romeo.

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Rom. TF I may trust the flattering truth of Sleep,

My Dreams presage some joyful News at hand:
My Bosom's Lord fits lightly in his Throne,
And all this winged unaccustom'd Spirit,
Lifts me above the Ground with chearful Thoughts.
I dreamt my Lady came and found me dead,
(Strange Dream ! that gives a dead Manleave to think)
And breath'd fuch Life with Kisses in my Lips,
That I reviv'd, and was an Emperor.
Ah me! how sweet is Love it self posseft,
When but Love's Shadows are so rich in Joy.

Enter Romeo's Man,
News from Verona- How now Balthazar ?
Doft 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.

Man. Then she is well, and nothing can be ill.
Her Body Neeps in Capulet's Monument,
And her immortal part with Angels lives :
I saw her laid low in her Kindreds 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 deny you Stars.
Thou knoweft my Lodging, get me Ink and Paper,
And hire Post-Horses, I will hence to Night.

Man. I do beseech you, Sir, have patience:
Your Looks are pale and wild, and do import
Some Misadventure.

Rom. Tush, thou art deceiv'a,
Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do:
Hast thou no Letters to me from the Friar?

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Man. No, good my Lord.
Rom. No matter : Get thee

gone,
And hire those Horses, I'll be with thee straight. [Exit Max.
Well Juliet, I will lye with thee to Night;
Let's see for means-O Mischief thou art swift
To enter in the Thought 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; Meager were his Looks,
Sharp Misery had worn him to the Bones:
And in his needy Shop a Tortoise hung,
An Alligator stuft, 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 scattered, to make up a shew.
Noting this Penury, to my self I said,
And if a Man did need a Poison now,
Whose fale is present Death in Mantua,
Here lives á Caitiff Wretch would sell it him.
O this same Thought did but fore-run my Need,
And this fame needy Man must sell it me.
As I remember, this should be the House,
Being holy-day, the Beggar's Shop is shut.
What ho! Apothecary !

Enter Apothecary.
Ap. Who calls so loud?

Rom. Come hither Man, I see that thou art poor,
Hold, there is forty Dıcats, let me have
A Dram of Poison, such soon-speeding Geer,
As will disperse it self thro’all the Veins,
That the Life-weary.taker may fall Dead,
And that the Trunk may be discharg'd of Breath,
As violently, as hasty Powder fir'd
Doth hurry from the fatal Canon's Womb,

Ap. Such Mortal Drugs I have, but Mantua's Law
Is Death to any he that utters them.

Rom. Art thou so bare and full of Wretchedness, And fear'st to dye? Famine iş in thy Cheeks,

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Need and Oppression ftarveth in thine Eyes,
Contempt and Beggary hang on thy Back:
The World is not thy Friend, nor the World's Law;
The World affords no Law to make thee Rich.
Then be not Poor, but break it, and take this,

Ap. My Poverty, but not my Will confents.
Rom. I 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 dispatch you straight.

Rom. There is thy Gold, worse Poison to Mens Souls,
Doing more Murder in this loathsom World,
Than these poor Compounds that thou maist not sell:
I fell thee Poison, thou hast sold me none.
Farewel, buy Food, and get thy self in Flesh.
Come Cordial, and not Poison, go with me
To Juliet's Grave, for there must I use thee. [Exeum.
SCENE II. The Monafiery near Verona.

Enter Friar John to Friar Lawrence,
John. Holy Franciscan Friar ! Brother ! ho!

Law. This fame should be the Voice of Friar John.
Welcome from Mantua, what says Romeo?
Or if his Mind be writ, give me his Letter.

John. Going to find a bare-foot Brother out,
One of our Order, to associate me,
Here in this City visiting the Sick,
And finding him, the Searchers of the Town,
Sufpe&ing that we both were in a House
Where the infectious Pestilence did reign,
Sealid up the Doors, and would not let us forth,
So that my speed to Mantua there was staid.

Law. Who bare my Letter then to Romeo?

John. I could not send it; here it is again,
Nor get a Messenger to bring it thee,
So fearful were they of Infe&ion.

Law. Unhappy Fortune! by my Brotherhood,
The Letter was not nice, but full of Charge
Of dear Import, and the neglecting it
May do much Dinger. Friar John, go hence,

Get

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[Exit.

Get me an Iron Crow, and bring it streight
Unto my Cell.

John. Brother, I'll go and bring it thee.
Law. Now must I to the Monument alone,
Within this three Hours will fair Juliet wake,
She will beshrew me much, that Romeo
Hath had no notice of these Accidents :
But I will write again to Mantua,
And keep her at my Cell 'till Romeo come,
Poor living Coarse, clos'd in a dead Man's Tomb.

[Exit.

SCEN E III. A Church-yard, in it, a noble Monument belonging to the Capulets.

Enter Paris and his Page, with a Light. Par. Give me thy Torch, Boy; hence, and stand aloof : Yet put it out, for I would not be seen : Under yond young Trees lay thee all along, Laying thy Ear close to the hollow Ground, So thall 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 fignal that thou hearest something approach. Give me those Flowers. Dɔ as I bid thee, go.

Pag. I am almost afraid to stand alone Here in the Church-yard, yet I will adventure. [Exit.

Par. Sweet Flower, with Flowers thy bridal Bed I strew: O Woe, thy Canopy is Duft and Stones, Which with sweet Water nightly I will dew, Or wanting that, with Tears distilled by Mones; The Obsequies that I for thee will keep, Nightly fhall be, to strew thy Grave and weep.

[The Boy whistles. The Boy gives warning, something doth approach,What cursed Foot wanders this way to Night, To cross my Obsequies, and true Loves Right? What with a Torch? Muffle me, Night, a while.

Enter Romeo and Peter' with a Light. Rom. Give me that Mattock, and the wrenching Iron. * Hold, take thiş Letter, early in the Morning

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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 feest, 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, doft return to Pry
In what I further shall intend to do,

Heaven I will tear thee Joint by Joint,
And strew this hungry Church-yard with thy Limbs :
The Time, and my intents are savage wild,
More fierce, and more inexorable far,
Than empty Tygers, or the roaring Sea.

Pet. I will be gone Sir, and not trouble you,

Rom. So shalt thou shew me Friendship: Take thou that, Live and be prosperous, and farewel good Fellow..

Pet. For all this same, I'll hide me here about, His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt.

[Exit. Rom. Thou 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 Monument. And in despight, I'll cram thee with more Food,

Par. This is that banishe haughty Mountague
That murthered 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.
Stop thy unhallowed Toil, vile Mountague :
Can Vengeance be pursu'd further than Death:
Condemned Villain, I do apprehend thee ;
Obey, and go with me, for thou must Die.

Rom. I must indeed, and therefore came I hither ----
Good gentle Youth, tempt not a desperate Man,
Fly hence and leave me, think upon those gone,
Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, Youth,
Pull not another sin upon my Head,
By urging me to Fury. O be gone,
By Heaven I love thee better than my self';

For

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