XII. "JUL. Go, get thee hence, for I will not away.- To make me die with a restorative. Thy lips are warm. (Kisses him.) 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." ACT V. S. 3. |