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 chambermaids; 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.

[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? 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,

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.

Romeo!

FRI.
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?

[Advances.

[Enters the monument.

Romeo! O, pale!-Who else? what, Paris too?
And steep'd in blood?-Ah, what an unkind 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,

And there I am:-Where is my Romeo?

[Noise within.

FRÍ. I hear some noise.-Lady, come from that nest 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,-[Voise again] I dare no longer stay.

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.

Thy lips are warm!

[Exit.

[Kisses him.

1 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 church

yard:
Go, some of you, whoe'er you find, attach. ·
Pitiful sight! here lies the county slain;-
And Juliet bleeding; warm, and newly dead,
Who here hath lain these two days buried.
Go, tell the prince,-run to the Capulets,—
Raise up the Montagues,—some others search;

[Exeunt some.

[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 streets cry-Romeo,
Some-Juliet, and some-Paris; and all run,
With open outcry, toward our monument.

PRINCE. What fear is this, which startles in your ears?
1 WATCH. Sovereign, here lies the county Paris slain;

And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before,
Warm and new kill'd.

PRINCE. Search, seek, and know how this foul murther

comes.

1 WATCH. Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's man; With instruments upon them, fit to open

These dead men's tombs.

CAP. O, Heaven!-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.

LA. CAP. O me! this sight of death is as a bell, That warns my old age to a sepulchre.

Enter MONTAGUE and others.

PRINCE. Come, Montague; for thou art early up, To see thy son and heir now 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 my age? PRINCE. Look, and thou shalt see.

To

MON. O thou untaught! what manners is in this, 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,

And lead you even to death: Meantime forbear,
And let mischance be slave to patience.-
Bring forth the parties of suspicion.

FRI. I am the greatest, able to do least,
Yet most suspected, as the time and place
Doth make against me, of this direful murther;
And here I stand, both to impeach and purge

Myself condemned and myself excus'd.

PRINCE. Then say at once what thou dost know in this. FRI. I will be brief, for my short date of breath

Is not so long as is a tedious tale.

Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet,
And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife:

I married them; and their stolen marriage-day
Was Tybalt's doomsday, whose untimely death
Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from this city;
For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pin'd.
You, to remove that siege of grief from her,
Betroth'd and would have married her perforce
To county Paris:-Then comes she to me;
And, with wild looks, bid me devise some means
To rid her from this second marriage,

Or, in my cell there would she kill herself,
Then gave I her, so tutor'd by my art,
A sleeping potion; which so took effect
As I intended, for it wrought on her
The form of death: meantime I writ to Romeo,
That he should hither come as this dire night,
To help to take her from her borrow'd grave,
Being the time the potion's force should cease.
But he which bore my letter, friar John,
Was stay'd by accident; and yesternight
Return'd my letter back: Then all alone,
At the prefixed hour of her waking,
Came I to take her from her kindred's vault;
Meaning to keep her closely at my cell,
Till I conveniently could send to Romeo:
But when I came (some minute ere the time
Of her awaking), here untimely lay
The noble Paris, and true Romeo, dead.
She wakes; and I entreated her come forth,
And bear this work of Heaven with patience:
But then a noise did scare me from the tomb;
And she, too desperate, would not go with me,
But (as it seems) did violence on herself.
All this I know; and to the marriage
Her nurse is privy: And, if aught in this
Miscarried by my fault, let my old life
Be sacrific'd, some hour before the time,
Unto the rigour of severest law.

PRINCE. We still have known thee for a holy man.Where's Romeo's man? what can he say to this?

BAL. I brought my master news of Juliet's death;