Imatges de pÓgina
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Cap. Oh brother Mountague, give me thy hand,
This is my daughter's jointure; for no more
Can I demand.

Moun. But I can give thee more,
For I will raise her statue in pure gold,
That while Verona by that name is known,
There shall no figure at that rate be priz'd,
As that of true and faithful Juliet.

Cap. As rich shall Romeo by this lady lie,
Poor sacrifices of our enmity!

Prin. A gloomy peace this morning with it brings, Let Romeo's

man and let the boy attend us : We'll hence and farther scan these fad disasters : Well may you mourn, my Lords, (now wise too late) These tragic issues of your mutual hate : From private feuds, what dire misfortunes flow; Whate'er the cause, the sure effect is WOE.

F IN I S.

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