Imatges de pÓgina

A I R.
Thou sporless foul, look down below,

Our unfeign'd forrow fee ;
Ob give us ftrength to bear our wor,

To bear the loss of Thee!

Rife, Rife! &c.



Μ Α Ν Τ υ Α.

Enter Romeo.
F may trust the

My dreams presage some joyful news at hand:
My bosom's lord fits lightly on his throne,
And all this day, an unaccuftom'd fpirit
Lifts me above the ground with chearful thoughts.
I dreamt, my lady came and found me dead,
And breath'd such life with kisses in my lips,
That I reviv'd and was an Emperor.
Ah me! how sweet is love itself pofseft,
When but love's shadows are fo rich in joy?

Enter Balthazar
News from Verona How now, Balthazar ?
Dost 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 the be well.

Bal. Then she is well, and nothing can be ill,
Mer body feeps in Capulet's monument,
And her immortal part with angels lives :
I saw her carried to her kindred's vault,
And presently took post to tell it you:
O, pardon me for bringing these ill new3.

Rom. Is it even for then I defy you, stars !
Bal, My Lord !


Rom. Thou know'st my lodging, get me ink and paper, And hire post- horses. I will hence to-night.

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

Rom. Go, thou art deceiv'd ;
Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do:
Haft thou no letters to me from the Friar ?

Bal. No, good my Lord.

Rom. No matter : Get thee gone,
And hire those horses, I'll be with thee Araight.

[Exit Balthazar.
Well, Julitt, I will lie with thee to night;
Let's see for means mischief! thou art swift
To enter in the thought of desperate men!
I do remember an Apothecary,
And hereabout he dwells, whom late I noted
In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows,
Culling of simples ; meagre were his looks,
Sharp misery had worn him to the bones :
And in his needy fhop a tortoise hung,
An alligator Ituft, and other skins
Of ill-shap'd fishes; and about his shelves
A beggarly account of empty boxes ;
Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty feeds,
Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses
Were thinly scatter'd, to make up a fhew.
Noring his penary, to myself I said,
An' if a man did need a poison now,
Here lives a aitiff wretch would sell it him.
Oh this same thought did but forerun my need,
As I remember this thould be the house.
Being holy-day, the beggar's shop is shut.
What, ho! apochecary!

Erter Apothecary.. As, Who calls so loud ?

Rom Come hither, man; I see that thou art poor ; Hold, there are forty ducats : let me have A dram of poison, such soon-speeding geer, As will disperse itself thro' all the veins, Tbet the life-weary Taker may soon die.

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Ap. Such mortal drugs I have, but Mantua's law Is death to any he that utters them.

Rom. Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness, And fear'it 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 hen be not poor, but break it, and take this. Ap. My poverty, but not my, will consents. [Exit. Rom. I pay thy poverty, and not thy will.

[ Apothecary retarns, Ap. Put this in any liquid thing you will, And drink it off, and if you had the strength Of tsventy men it would dispatch you straight.

Rom. There is thy gold, worse poison to mens fouls, Doing more murder in this loathsome world, Than these poor compounds that thou may'st not fell : I sell thee poison, thou hast sold me none. Farewel, buy food, and get thee into flesh. Come cordial, and not poiion, go with me To Juliet's grave, for there must I use thee. [Exeunt.


с Е Ε Ν Ε


The Monastery at Verona.

Enter Friar John to Friar Lawrence.

Jobri H H

John LTOLY Franciscan Friar! brother ! ho !

Law. This same should be the voice of

Friar John,
Welcome from Mantua; what says Rorneo ?
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 fick;


And finding him, the searchers of the town,
(Suspecting that we both were in a house
Where the infectious peftilence did reign)
Seal'd up the doors, and would not let us forth,
So that my speed to Mantua there was staid.

Law. 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.

Law. 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 straight
Unto my

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

Law. 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 !


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A Church-yard: In it, a Monument belonging to

the Capulets.

Enter Paris, and his Page with a light.



Par. IVE me thy torch, boy; hence, and stand

Yet put it out, for I would not be seen :
Under yond yew-tree lay thee all along,
Placing 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 hear't something approach.
Give me chose flow'rs. Do as I bid thee; go.

Page. I am almost afraid to stand alone
Here in the church-yard, yet I will adventure. [Exit.
Par. Sweet flow'rs! with flow'rs thy bridal bed I

(Strewing flowers. Fair Juliet, that with angels doft remain, Accept this latest favour at my hand, That living honour'd thee, and, being dead, With fun'ral obsequies adorn thy tomb.

[The boy whifles. -The boy gives warning, something doth approach What cursed foot wanders this way to night, To cross my obsequies ? and true loves rite ? What! with a torch ? muffle me, night, a while.

[Paris retires.

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Enter Romeo and Balthasar with a light. Rom. LIVE me the wrenching iron,

Hold, take this letter, early in the morning See thou deliver it to my lord and father. Put out the torch, and on thy life, I charge thee, Whate'er thou hear't or seest

, stand all aloof, And do not interrupt me in my

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, doft return to pry
In what I further shall intend to do,
By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint,


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