Imágenes de páginas

Unto my cell.

Juhn. Brother, I'll go and bring it thee. [Erit.

Lau. 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 corse, clos'd in a dead man's tomb! [Exit.

SCENE III.- A Church-yard; in it, a monument belong

ing to the CAPULETS.

Enter Paris, and his Page, bearing Flowers and a torch.
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

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, a while.


Enter Romeo and BALTHASAR with a torch, mattock, &c.

Rom. Give me that mattock, and the wrenching iron.
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, 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 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 be gone, sir, and not trouble you.
Rom. So shalt thou show me friendship.-Take thou


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.--

[Adoances. Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague; 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 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 bither arm’d against myself: Stay not, be gone ;---live, and hereafter sayA 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 ?—0, 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, 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. How oft, when men are at the point of death, Have they been merry? which their keepers call A lightning before death : 0, how Call this a lightning :-0, 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?

may I

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.


Enter, at the other end of the churchyard, Friar Lau

RENCE, with a lantern, crow, and spade. Fri. Saint Francis be my speed! bow oft to-night Have my old feet stumbled at graves !-Who's there? 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 To grubs and eyeless skulls ? as I discern, It burneth in the Capels' monument.

« AnteriorContinuar »