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Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open.
[Breaking open the Monument. And, in despight, I'll cram thee with more food. Paris. [Showing himself.] Stop thy unhallow'd toil,
vile Montague !
Can vengeance be pursu'd farther than death?
Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee;
for thou must die. Rom. I must, indeed, and therefore came !
Good, gentle youth, tempt not a desp'rate man;
Fly hence, and leave me :
By Hear’n, I love thee better than myself;
For I'm come hither arm’d against myself.
Par. I do defy thy pity and thy counsel,
And apprehend thee for a felon here.
Rom. Wilt thou provoke me? then have at thee,
[They fight; Paris falls. Par. 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! Noble county Paris !
Give me thy hand,
One writ with me in sour misfortune's book :
I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave;
For here lies Juliet. [Breaks open the Tomb.] Oh, 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 fag is not advanced there.
Oh, Juliet, why art thou so fair ?---Here, here
Will I set up my everlasting rest,
And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars
From this world-weary flesh :
Come, bitter conduct; come, unsav'ry guide,
Thou desp'rate pilot, now at once r'un on
The dashing rocks my sea-sick, weary bark:
No more-here's to my love !--eyes, look your last :
[Drinks the Poison.
Arms, take your last embrace: and, lips, do you
The doors of death seal with a righteous kiss
Soft-she breathes, and stirs ! [JULIET wakes.
Jul, Where am I?
Rom. She speaks, she lives! and we shall still be
My kind propitious stars o'erpay me now,
For all my sorrows past-Rise, rise, my Juliet,
And from this cave of death, this house of horror,
Quick let me snatch thee to thy Romeo's arms;
There breathe a vital spirit in thy lips,
And call thee back to life and love.
[Takes her Hand. Jul. Bless me! how cold it is! who's there? Rom. Thy husband; "Tis thy Romeo, Juliet; rais'd from despair To joys unutterable! Quit, quit this place, And let us fly together-
[Brings her from the Tomb. Jul. Why do you force me so ? --I'll ne'er con
sentMy strength may fail me, but my will's unmov'd, -! I'll not wed Paris-Romeo is
husband Rom. Romeo is thy husband; I am that Romeo, Nor all the opposing pow'rs of earth or man, Shall break our bonds, or tear thee from my heart.
Jul. I know that voice-Its magic sweetness wakes My tranced soul-I now remember well Each circumstance-Oh, my lord ! my husband !
[Going to embrace him. Dost thou avoid me, Romeo ? let me touch Thy hand, and touch the cordial of thy lipsYou fright me -speak-oh, let me hear some voice
Besides my own in this drear vault of death, 1 Or I shall faint
Rom. Oh, I cannot ; I have no strength, but want thy feeble aid. Cruel poison ! Jul. Poison! what means my lord? thy trembling
voice ! Pale lips, and swimming eyes! death's in thy face!
Rom. It is indeed- I struggle with him now
The transports, that I felt, to hear thee speak,
And see thy opening eyes, stopp'd for a moment
His impetuous eourse, and all my
Was happiness and thee; but now the poison
Rushes thro' my veins --I've not time to tell
Fate brought me to this place-to take a last,
Last farewell of my love, and with thee die.
Jul. Die! was the Friar false ?
• Rom. I know not that-
I thought thee dead : distracted at the sight,
(Fatal speed) drank poison, kiss'd thy cold lips,
and found within thy arms a precious grave-
But in that inoment- Oh!
Jul. And did I wake for this!
Rom. My pow'rs are blasted;
'Twixt deaih and love I'm torn--I am distracted!
But death iss trongest-And must I leave thee, Juliet!
Oh, cruel, cursed fate! in sight of Heav'n
Jul. Thou rav'st—lean on my breast.
Rom. Fathers have finty hearts, no tears can melt
them: Nature pleads in vain-Children must be wretched
Jul. Oh, my breaking heart !
Rom. She is my wife- our hearts are twin'd to-
getherCapulet, forbear-- Paris, loose your holdPull not our heart-strings thus—they crack, they
breakOh, Juliet! Juliet!
Enter FRIAR LAWRENCE, with Lanthorn, Crow, and
Spade. Fri. St. Francis be my speed: how oft to-night, Have my old feet stumbled at graves! who's there? Alack ! alack! what blood is this, which stains The stony entrance of this sepulchre ?
Jul. Who's there?
Fri. Ah, Juliet awake, and Romeo dead !
And Paris too!-Oh, what unkind hour
Is guilty of this lamentable chance?
Jul. Here he is still, and I will hold him fast;
They shall not tear him from me-
Fri. Patience, lady
Jul. Who is that? O, thou cursed Friar ! patience! Talk'st thou of patience to a wretch like me!
Fri. O, fatal error! rise, thou fair distress’d,
And fly this scene of death !
Jul. Come thou not near me,
Or this dagger shall quit my Romeo's death!
[Draws a Dagger. Fri. ' I wonder not, thy griefs have made thee
What noise without? sweet Juliet, let us fly-
A greater Power than we can contradict
Hath thwarted our intents—come, haste away,
I will dispose thee, most unhappy lady,
Amongst a sisterhood of holy nuns:
Stay not to question--for the watch is coming.
Come, go, good Juliet- I dare no longer stay. [Exit,
Jul. Go, get thee hence, I will not away-
What's here! a phial_Romeo's timeless end.
O churl, drink all, and leave no friendly drop
To help me after !—I will kiss thy lips,
Haply some poison yet doth hang on them-
Prince. [Without,] Lead, boy, which way
Jul. Noise again!
Then I'll be brief Oh, happy dagger!
This is thy sheath, there rest, and let me die.
[Kills herself, Enter the Prince, BALTHASAR, and ATTENDANTS,
with the FRIAR.
Prince. What misadventure is so early up,
That calls our person from its morning resi ?
Cap. What should it be, that they so shriek
The people in the street cry, Romeo!
Some, Juliet! and some, Paris ! and all run
With open outcry tow'rds our monument.
Prince. What fear is this, which startles in your
Bal. Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain,
And Romeo dead—Juliet, thought dead before,
Is warm, and newly killd-
Cap. Oh me! this sight of death is as a bell,
age to a sepulchre.
Prince. Come, Montague, for thou art early up:
To see thy son and heir now early fall’n.
Mont. Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night;
Grief of my son's exile has stopp'd her breath.
What farther woe conspires against my age!
Prince. Look there--and see
Mont. Oh, 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 know their spring and head-meantime forbear,
And let mischance be slave to patience.
Bring forth the parties of suspicion.
Fri, I am the greatest.