University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

SCENE, near the Walls of Verona.
Enter Romeo.
Irksome Suspence creates perplexing Thoughts;
Therefore no longer cou'd I rest in Mantua;
But boldly have I ventured to Verona,
Altho' it be at Hazard of my Life:
'Tis better know the worst, than be in doubt.
Yet, if I trust the Flattery of Sleep,
My Dreams presage some joyful News at hand:
My Bosom's Lord sits lightly on his Throne,
And ev'n now an 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 Man leave to think)
And breath'd such Life with Kisses in my Lips,
That I revived, and was an Emperor.
Ah, me! how sweet is Love itself possest,
When but Love's Shadows are so rich in Joy?
Why does my Servant slack his Expedition?
Enter Romeo's Man.
O! he returns—How now, Balthazar?
Do'st thou not bring me Letters from the Friar?
How doth my Lady? Is my Father well?
How doth my Juliet? That I ask again,
For nothing can be ill, if she be well.

Bal.
Then she is well, and nothing can be ill,
Her Body sleeps in Capulet's Monument,
And her immortal Part with Angels lives:
I saw her laid low in her Kindred's Vault,
And presently took Post to tell it you:
O pardon me for bringing these ill News.

Rom.
Is it even so? Then I defy you, Stars!
Haste thee, Balthazar, get me Ink and Paper,
And meet me near the Abbey of St. Mary.

Bal.
Pardon me, Sir, I dare not leave you thus.
Your Looks are pale and wild, and do import
Some Misadventure.

Rom.
Tush, thou art deceived,
Leave me, and do the Thing I bid thee do:
Hast thou no Letters to me from the Friar?

Bal.
No, good my Lord.

Rom.
No Matter, get thee gone;
See thou art speedy, I'll be with you strait.
[Exit Bal.
Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee To-night,
But for the Means—O Mischief! thou art quick
To enter in the Thought of desp'rate Men!
‘I do remember an Apothecary,
‘And hereabouts he dwells, whom late I noted
‘In tattered Weeds, with overwhelming Brows,
‘Culling of Simples; meagre were his Looks,
‘Sharp Misery had worn him to the Bones:
‘And in his needy Shop a Tortoise hung,
‘An Alligator stuff'd, and other Skins
‘Of ill-shaped Fishes, and about his Shelves
‘A beggarly Account of empty Boxes,
‘Green Earthen Pots, Bladders, and musty Seeds,
‘Remnants of Pack-thread, and old Cakes of Roses
‘Were thinly scatter'd to make up a Show.’
Noting his Penury, to myself I said,
And if a Man did need a Poison now,
Whose Sale incurs the Penalty of Death,
Here lives a Caitiff Wretch would sell it him.
Oh this same Thought did but fore-run my Need,
And this same 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.
Apot.
Who calls so loud?

Rom.
Come hither Man, I see that thou art poor;
Behold, here's forty Ducats, let me have
A Dram of Poison such soon-spreading Geer,
As will disperse itself 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 fired
Doth hurry from the fatal Cannons Womb.

Apot.
Such mortal Drugs I have, but our Laws
Speak Death to any he that utters them.

Rom.
Art thou so bare and full of Wretchedness,
And fearest to die? Famine is in thy Cheeks,
Need and Oppression stare within 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.

Apot.
My Poverty, but not my Will, consents.

[Exit.
Rom.
I pay thy Poverty, and not thy Will.

Apot.
returns.
Put this in any liquid Thing you will,
And drink it off, and if you had the Strength
Of twenty Men, it wou'd dispatch you strait.

Rom.
There is the Gold, worse Poison to Men's Souls,
Doing more Murder in this loathsome World,
Than these poor Compounds that thou may'st not sell:
I sell thee Poison, thou hast sold me none.
Farewell, buy Food, and get thee into Flesh.
And now for Juliet's Monument.

SCENE, the Outside of the Convent.
Enter Friar John to Friar Laurence.
John.
Holy Franciscan Friar, Brother! ho!

Lau.
This same 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
Suspecting that we both were in a House
Where the infectious Pestilence did reign,
Seal'd up the Doors, and wou'd not let us forth,
So that my Speed to Mantua there was stay'd.

Lau.
Who bore 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 Infection.

Lau.
Unhappy Fortune! by my Brotherhood,
The Letter was not nice, but full of Charge,
Of dear Import, and the neglecting it
May do much danger. Friar John, go hence
Get me an Iron Crow, and bring it strait
Unto my Cell.

John.
Brother, I'll go and bring it thee.

[Exit.
Lau.
Now must I to the Monument alone:
Within these 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.
SCENE, a Church-yard, in it several Monuments belonging to the Capulets.
Enter Paris and his Page with a Torch.
Paris.
Boy.—Under yond Yew-Tree lay thee all along,
Laying thy Ear close to the hollow Ground;
So shall 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 Signal that thou hearest something approach.
Give me those Flowers. Do as I bid thee; go.

Page.
I am almost afraid to stand alone
Here in the Church-Yard, yet I will venture.

[Exit.
Paris.
Sweet Flower! with Flowers thy bridal Bed I strew;
Fair Juliet, that with Angels dost remain,
Accept this latest Favour at my Hand,
That living honoured thee, and being dead
With funeral Obsequies adorn thy Tomb.
[The Boy whistles.
The Boy gives warning, somthing doth approach—
What cursed Foot wanders this Way To-night,
To cross my Obsequies and true Love's Rite?
What with a Light? Muffle me, Night, a while.

Enter Romeo and Balthazar with a Light.
Rom.
Give me the wrenching Iron.
Take this Letter, early in the Morning
See thou deliver it to my Lord and Father.
Hang up the Light; upon thy Life, I charge thee,
What e'er thou hear'st, or see'st, 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 dost return to pry
In what I further shall intend to do,
By Heaven I will tear thee Joint by Joint,
And strew this hungry Church-Yard with thy Limbs;
The Times and my Intents are savage, wild,
More fierce and more inexorable far
Than empty Tygers, or the roaring Sea.

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

Rom.
So shalt thou win my Favour. Take thou that,
Live and be prosperous, and farewell, good Fellow.

Bal.
For all this, I'll not move far:
His Looks, I fear, and his Intents I doubt.

[Exit.
Rom.
Thou destable Maw, thou Womb of Death.
Gorged with the dearest Morsel of the Earth,
This shall enforce thy rotten Joys to open,
[Breaking open the Monument.
And in despite, I'll cram thee with more Food.

Paris.
This is that banish'd haughty Mountague,
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'll apprehend him,
Stop thy unhallowed Toil vile Mountague.
Can Vengeance be pursued 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 these 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 myself;
For I came hither arm'd against myself.

Paris.
I do defy thy Commiseration,
And apprehend thee for a Felon here.

Rom.
Wilt thou provoke me? Then have at thee, Boy.

[They fight, Paris falls.
Paris,
Oh, I am slain! if thou be merciful,
Open the Tomb, lay me with Juliet.

Rom.
In faith I will: Let me peruse this Face—
Mercutio's Kinsman! Paris! Fare thee well.
Since in Misfortune's Book with me thou art writ
I'll bury thee in a triumphant Grave.
For here lies Juliet—Oh my Love, my Wife,
Death that hath suck'd the Honey of thy Breath,
Hath had no Power yet upon thy Beauty
That is 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.
Why art thou 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'll stay with thee for ever.
Come bitter Conduct, thou unsavoury Guide:
Here's to my Love—
[Drinks the Poison.
And now Eyes look your last,
Arms take your last Embrace, whilst on these Lips
I fix the Seal of an eternal Contract—
She breathes and stirs.—

[Juliet wakes.
Jul.
In the Tomb.
Where am I? Bless me, Heaven!
'Tis very cold: And yet here's something warm—

Rom.
She lives, and we shall both be made immortal.
Speak, speak my Juliet, speak some heavenly News,
And tell me how the Gods design to treat us.

Jul.
O! I have slept a long ten thousand Years.
What have they done with me? I'll not be us'd thus?
I'll not wed Paris: Romeo is my Husband,
Is he not, Sir? Methinks you're very like him.
Be good as he is, and protect me.

Rom.
Juliet, Hah!
Wilt thou not own me? Am I then but like him?
Much, much indeed I'm chang'd from what I was;
And ne'er shall be my self, if thou art lost.

Jul.
The Gods have heard my Vows; it is my Romeo.
Once more they have restor'd him to my Eyes.
Hadst thou not come, sure I had slept for ever.
But there's a sovereign Charm in thy Embraces,
That might do Wonders, and revive the Dead.

Rom.
Ill Fate no more, my Juliet, now shall part us,
Nor cruel Parents, nor oppressing Laws.
Did not Heav'n's Pow'rs all wonder at our Loves?
And when thou told'st the Tale of thy Disasters,
Was there not Sadness and a Gloom amongst 'em?
I know there was; and they in pity sent thee,
Thus to redeem me from this Vale of Torments,
And bear me with thee to those Hills of Joys.
This World's gross Air grows burthensome already.
I'm all a God; such heav'nly Joys transport me,
That mortal Sense grows sick, and faints with lasting.

[Dies.
Jul.
Oh! to recount my Happiness to thee,
To open all the Treasure of my Soul,
And shew thee how 'tis fill'd, would waste more Time
Than so impatient Love as mine can spare.
He's gone! he's dead! breathless: Alas! my Romeo,
A Phial too: here, here has been his Bane.
O Churl! drink all? Not leave one friendly Drop
For your poor Wife. Yet I'll drain thy Lips.
Perhaps some welcome Poison may hang there,
To help me to o'ertake thee on thy Journey.
They're cold and damp as Earth. Hah! Stains of Blood!
And a Man murder'd 'tis the unhappy Paris.
Who fix their Joys on any Thing that's mortal,
Let 'em behold my Portion and Despair.
Oh! I could rend the Air with Lamentations,
And rouse the dead up from their darksome Graves,
Let Heart felt Rage, Distraction, and Despair,
Seize all the World till they grow mad as I am.

Watch.
Within.
Lead Boy. Which way?

Jul.
What Noise is that—I will have no Prevention.
Then I'll be brief. Come well-secreted Dagger.
[Stabs herself.
This is thy Sheath, there rust and let me die?
'Tis o'er;—my Eyes grow dim. Where is my Love?
Have I caught you! now, now, we'll part no more.

[Falls on Romeo, and dies.
Enter a Page with Watch, &c.
Page.
This is the Place where yonder Light doth burn.

Watch.
The Ground is bloody. Search all about the Church;
Go some of you, whom e'er you find attack.
Go tell the Prince, run to the Capulets,
Raise up the Mountagues, some others search—

Enter some of the Watch with Romeo's Man.
2d Watch.

Here's Romeo's Man, we found him in
the Church-yard.

1st Watch.

Hold him in Safety till the Prince comes
hither.

Enter Friar, and a third Watchman.
3d Watch.

Here's a Friar, from whom we took
this Iron and this Spade.

1st Watch.
Stay the Friar too. Let none escape.

Friar
, looking on the Bodies.
Juliet, I came to free thee from the Grave,
But little thought to find thee fast in Death.
What! Romeo too? Ill-fated lovely Pair.
Oh! dire Effect of most unhappy Error!

Enter the Prince, and Attendants.
Prince.
What Misadventure is so early up,
That calls our Person from our Morning's Rest?

Enter Capulet, and Lady Capulet.
Cap.
What should it be that they so shriek abroad?

L. Cap.
The People in the Street cry Romeo,
Some Juliet, and some Paris; and all run
With open Outcry toward our Monument.

Prince.
What Fear is this that startles in your Ears?

1st Watch.

Sovereign, here lies noble Lord Paris
slain, and Romeo dead, and Juliet warm and new
kill'd.

Prince.

Search, seek, and know how this foul Murder
comes.

Watch.

Here is a Friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's
Man, with Instruments upon them fit to open these
dead Men's Tombs.

Cap.
Oh Heaven! oh Wife, look how our Daughter bleeds!
Oh me! this Sight of Death is as a Bell,
That warns my old Age to a Sepulchre.

Enter Mountague.
Prince.
Lord Mountague, thou art full early up,
To see thy Son and Heir now early fallen.

Mount.
Alas! my Liege, my Wife is dead Tonight,
Grief of my Son's Exile hath stopt her Breath.
What further Woe conspires against my Age?

Prince.
Look where thy Son lies dead.

Mount.
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 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 Murder;
And here I stand both to impeach and purge;
My self condemned, and my self excus'd.

Prince.
Then say at once what thou dost know in this.

Fri.
Romeo, there dead, was Husband to that Juliet.
I married them; to which her Nurse was witness.
Early next Day fair Juliet comes to me,
And with wild Looks bid me devise some Means,
Which might prevent her Marriage with young Paris,
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 write to Romeo,
That he should hither come as this dire Night,
To help to take her from her borrowed 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 awaking,
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.
If this be not the Truth, let my old Life
Be sacrificed some Hours before its Time,
Unto the Rigour of severest Law.

Prince.
We still have known thee for a holy Man.
Where's Balthazar, what can he say to this?

Bal.
I brought my Master News of Juliet's Death,
And then he came to this same Monument:
This Letter he bid me early give his Father,
And threat'ned me with Death going to the Vault,
If I departed not, and left him there.

Prince.
Give me the Letter, I will look on it.
Where is Count Paris' Page that rais'd the Watch?
What brought your Master to this Place To-night?

Page.
He came with Flowers to strew his Lady's Grave,
And bid me stand aloof; and so I did.
Anon comes one with Light to ope the Tomb,
And by and by my Master drew on him;
And then I ran away to call the Watch.

Prince.
This Letter doth make good the Friar's Words,
Their Course of Love, the Tidings of her Death:
And here he writes, that he did buy a Poison
Of a poor Apothecary, and therewithal
Came to this Vault to lie with Juliet.
Where be these Enemies Capulet! and Mountague?
See what a Scourge is laid upon your Hate,
That Heaven finds Means to kill your Joys with Love:
And I for winking at your Discords too,
Have lost a Brace of Kinsmen: All are punish'd.
Lord Mountague give Capulet thy Hand,
And let all Hate be buried in this Tomb.

Cap.
This is my Daughter's Jointure; for no more
Can I demand.

Mount.
But I can give thee more;
For I will raise her Statue in pure Gold,
That while Verona by that Name is known,
There shall no Figure at that Rate be set,
As that of true and faithful Juliet.

Cap.
As rich shall Romeo by his Lady lie,
Poor Sacrifices of our Amity.

Prince.

Never true Lovers Story did impart
More real Anguish to a humane Heart.