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Prince. Seal up the mouth of outrage for awhile,
F. Lau. I am the greatest, able to do least;
in this. F. Lau. 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 pined. You, to remove that siege of grief from her, Betrothed, 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
letter back: then all alone,
Prince. We still have known thee for a holy
Where's Romeo's man? what can he say in this ?
Bal. I brought my master news of Juliet's death; And then in post he came from Mantua,
To this same place, to this same monument.
Prince. Give me the letter; I will look on it.Where is the county's page, that raised the
watch? Sirrah, what made your master in this place? 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 'pothecary, and therewithal Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet.Where be these enemies ? - Capulet! Montague ! 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.
Cap. O, brother Montague, give me thy hand : This is my daughter's jointure; for no more
! Mercutio and Paris.
Can I demand.
Mon. But I can give thee more :
Cap. As rich shall Romeo by his lady lie;
brings : The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head. Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things;
Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished : For never was a story of more woe Than this of Juliet and her Romeo. Exeunt.
END OF VOL. XIII.