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Dost thou not bring me letters from the friar?
Bal. Then she is well, and nothing can be ill;
Rom. Is it even so ? then I defy you, stars !
Bal. Pardon me, sir, I will not leave you thus:
Tush, thou art deceiv'd;
Bal. No, my good lord.
gone, And hire those horses; I'll be with thee straight.
[Exit BALTHASAR. Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night. Let's see for means : O, mischief! thou art swift To enter in the thoughts of desperate men ! I do remember an apothecary, And hereabouts he dwells,—whom late I noted In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows, Culling of simples ; meager were his looks, Sharp misery had worn him to the bones: And in his needy shop a tortoise hung, An alligator stuff'd', and other skins
9 An alligator stuff'd,] I was many years ago assured, that formerly, when an apothecary first engaged with his druggist, he was gratuitously furnished by him with these articles of show, which were then imported for that use only. I have met with the alligator, tortoise, &c. hanging up in the shop of an ancient apothecary at Limehouse, as well as in places more remote from our metropolis. See Hogarth's Marriage Alamode, Plate III.-It may be remarked, however, that the apothecaries dismissed their alligators, &c. some time before the physicians were willing to part with their amber-headed canes and solemn periwigs. STEEVENS.
Of ill-shap'd fishes; and about his shelves
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 soon-speeding geer As will disperse itself through all the veins, That the life-weary taker may fall dead; And that the trunk may be discharg'd of breath As violently, as hasty powder fir'd Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb.
Ap. Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's law Is death, to any he that utters them.
1 An if a man, &c.] This phraseology, which means simply - If, was not unfrequent in Shakspeare's time and before.
Rom. Art thou so bare, and full of wretchedness,
Ap. My poverty, but not my will, consents.
Ap. Put this in any liquid thing you will,
Rom. There is thy gold; worse poison to men's souls, Doing more murders in this loathsome world, Than these poor compounds that thou may'st not sell : I sell thee poison, thou hast sold me none. Farewell ; buy food, and get thyself in flesh.Come, cordial, and not poison; go with me To Juliet's grave, for there must I use thee. [Exeunt.
Friar Laurence's Cell.
Enter Friar John.
Enter Friar LAURENCE.
Lau. This same 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, ?
2 One of our order, to associate me,] Each friar has always a companion assigned him by the superior when he asks leave to go out; and thus they are a check upon each other.
Here in this city visiting the sick,
Lau. Who bare my letter then to Romeo ?
- here it is again,
Lau. Unhappy fortune ! by my brotherhood,
John. Brother, I'll go and bring it thee. [Exit.
Lau. Now must I to the monument alone; Within this 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 corse, clos'd in a dead man's tomb ! [Exit.
A Churchyard; in it, a Monument belonging to the
Enter Paris, and his Page, bearing Flowers and a Torch. Par. Give me thy torch, boy: Hence, and stand
3 was not nice,) i. e. was not written on a trivial subject.
Yet put it out, for I would not be seen.
Page. I am almost afraid to stand alone
[The 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 rites ? What, with a torch! - muffle me, night, awhile.
Enter Romeo and BALTHASAR, with a Torch, Mattock,
Rom. Give me that mattock, and the wrenching-iron, 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'st or seest, stand all aloof, And do not interrupt me in my course. 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