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Whose sale is present death in Mantua,
Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.
Oh, this fame thought did but fore-run my need,
And this fame needy man must sell it me.
As I remember, this should be the house.
Being holy-day, the beggar's shop is shut:
What, hó! Apothecary!

Enter Apothecary.
Ap. Who calls so loud ?

Rom. Come hither, man ; I see, that thou art poor;;
Hold, there is forty ducats : - let me have .
A dram .of.poison, such foon-speeding geer,
As will. disperse itself thro' all the veins,
That the life-weary taker may fall dead;
And that the trunk may be discharg'd of breath, .
As violently, as hafty powder fir'd
Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's mb.

Ap. Such mortal drugs I have, but. Mantuu'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 upon thy. back:
The world is not th, friend, nor the world's law; :
The world affords no law to make thee rich,
Then be not poor, but break it and take this.

Mp. My poverty, but not my will, confents.
Rom. I

pay thy poverty, and not thy will.
Av. Put this in any liquid thing you will,
And drink it off, and if you had the strength
Of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight.

Rom. 'I here is thy gold; worse poison to men's souls,..
Doing more nurders in this loathlome world,
Than these poor compounds that thou may'st not sell :
I fell thee poison, thou hast sold me none.
Farewel, buy food, and get thee into fesh.
Come, cordial, and not poison ; go with me
TO Juliet's grave, for there must I use thee. [Exeunt.

SCENE changes to the Monastery at Verona.

Enter Friar John.
OLY Franciscan Friar! brother! ho !

Fobn.

Ho

Enter Friar Lawrence to him,
Law. This fame should be the voice of Friar John...
Welcome from Mantua ; what says Romeo ?
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 sick;
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 y br, go hence,
Get me an iron crow, and bring it straight
Unto

my

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

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! [Exit..

SCENE changes to a Church-yard: In it, a:

Monument belonging to the Capulets.

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Enter Paris, and his Page, with a light. Par. IVE me thy torch, boy; hence, and stand.

aloof,
Yet
put

it out, for I would not be seen:
Under yond yew-trees lay thee all along,
Laying 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 fignal that thou hear'it something approach.
Give me those 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'r! with flow'rs thy bridal bed I ftrew :

[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. [1 he boy whistles.

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

Enter Romeo and Balthasar with a light. (29)
Rom. Give me that mattock, and the wrenching iron.

Hold, (29) Enter Romeo, and Peter with a light.] But Peter was a serovant of the Capulets: besides, he brings the matlock and crow to wrench open Juliet's grave, an office hardly to be intrusted with a servant of that family. We find a litle above, at the very beginning of this act, Balthasar is the percou who brings Romes the news of bois bride's death: and yet, at the clote of the play, Perer takes upon him 10 depose that he brought those ridinge. Utri criditis, quirites ?-In short, we hear Bal: bajar deliver the mediage; and therefore Peter? is a lying evidence, suborn'd by the blundering editors. We muit

therefore

Hold, take this letter, early in the morning
See thou deliver it to my lord and father.
Give me the light; upon thy life, I charge thee,
Whate'er thou hear'ft or feest, itand all aloof,
And do not interrupt me in my course.
Why I descend into this bed of death,
Js 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,
And strew this hungry church-yard with thy limbs ;
The time and my intents are savage, wild,
More fierce and more inexorable far
Than empty tygers, or the roaring sea.

Baith. I will be gone, Sir, and not trouble you.
Rom. So shalt thou thew me friendship.-Take thou

that ;

Live and be profp'rous, and farewel, good fellow.

Balth. For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout; His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt.

[Exit Balth. Rom. Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death, Gorg'd with the deareft morsel of the earth, Thus I inforce thy rotten jaws to open,

[Breaking open the Monument. And in despight I'll cram thee with more food.

Par. This is that banisht haughty Montague, That murder'd my love's cousin; (with which grief, It is supposed, the fair creature dy’d) And here is come to do some villainous shame To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him. Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague : Can vengeance be pursu'd further than death ? therefore cashier him, and put Balthasar on his proper duty. The source of this error seems easy to be accounted for; Peter's character ending in the 4th act, 'tis very probable the same person might play Balthafar, and to be quoted on in the promptei's book as Peter.

Con

these gone;

Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee;
Obey, and

go

with me, for thou must die.
Rom. I must, indeed, and therefore came I hither.
Good gentle youth, tempt not a defp'rate man ;
Fly hence and leave me: think upon
Let them affright thee. I befeech thee, youth,.
Pull not another sin upon my head,
By urging me to fury. Oh be gone!
By heav'n, I love thee better than myself;
For I come hither arm'd against myself.
Stay not, be gone ; live, and hereafter say,
A madman's mercy bade thee run away.

Par. I do defy thy commiseration,
And apprehend thee for a felon here.
Rom. Wilt thou provoke me? then have at thee, boy.

[They fight, Paris fails. Page. Oh Lord, they fight! I will go call the watch...

Par. Oh, I am sain ; if thou be merciful,
Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet.

[Dies.
Rom. In faith, I will: let me peruse this face.
Mercutio's kinsman! Noble County Paris !
What said

my

betoffed soul
Did not attend him as we rode? I think,
He told me, Paris should have married Juliet.
Said he not fo? or did I dream it so?
Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet,
To think it was so ? Oh give me thy hand,
One writ with me in four Misfortune's book,
I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave.
A grave ? O, no; a lanthorn, llaughter'd youth;
For here lies Juliet; and her beauty makes

This vault a feasting presence full of light.
Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr’d:

[Loying Paris in the Monument.
How oft, when men are at the point of death,
Have they been merry? which their keepers call
A lightning before death.-0, how inay !
Call this a lightning! -Oh my love, my wife! !'
Death, that hath fuckt the honey of thy breath, .
Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty :

Thon,

my man, when

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