Shakespeare's First Folio Part 514

Enter.

Iul. Go get thee hence, for I will not away, What's here, A cup clos'd in my true loues hand?

Poyson I see hath bin his timelesse end O churle, drinke all? and left no friendly drop, To helpe me after, I will kisse thy lips, Happlie some poyson yet doth hang on them, To make me die with a restoratiue.

Thy lips are warme.

Enter Boy and Watch.

Watch. Lead Boy, which way?

Iul. Yea noise?

Then ile be briefe. O happy Dagger.

'Tis in thy sheath, there rust and let me die.

Kils herselfe.

Boy. This is the place, There where the Torch doth burne Watch. The ground is b.l.o.o.d.y, Search about the Churchyard.

Go some of you, who ere you find attach.

Pittifull sight, here lies the Countie slaine, And Iuliet bleeding, warme and newly dead Who here hath laine these two dayes buried.

Go tell the Prince, runne to the Capulets, Raise vp the Mountagues, some others search, We see the ground whereon these woes do lye, But the true ground of all these piteous woes, We cannot without circ.u.mstance descry.

Enter Romeo's man.

Watch. Here's Romeo's man, We found him in the Churchyard

Con. Hold him in safety, till the Prince come hither.

Enter Frier, and another Watchman.

3.Wat. Here is a Frier that trembles, sighes, and weepes We tooke this Mattocke and this Spade from him, As he was comming from this Church-yard side

Con. A great suspition, stay the Frier too.

Enter the Prince.

Prin. What misaduenture is so earely vp, That calls our person from our mornings rest?

Enter Capulet and his Wife.

Cap. What should it be that they so shrike abroad?

Wife. O the people in the streete crie Romeo.

Some Iuliet, and some Paris, and all runne With open outcry toward our Monument

Pri. What feare is this which startles in your eares?

Wat. Soueraigne, here lies the Countie Paris slaine, And Romeo dead, and Iuliet dead before, Warme and new kil'd

Prin. Search, Seeke, and know how, this foule murder comes

Wat. Here is a Frier, and Slaughter'd Romeos man, With Instruments vpon them fit to open These dead mens Tombes

Cap. O heauen!

O wife looke how our Daughter bleedes!

This Dagger hath mistaine, for loe his house Is empty on the backe of Mountague, And is misheathed in my Daughters bosome

Wife. O me, this sight of death, is as a Bell That warnes my old age to a Sepulcher.

Enter Mountague.

Pri. Come Mountague, for thou art early vp To see thy Sonne and Heire, now early downe

Moun. Alas my liege, my wife is dead to night, Griefe of my Sonnes exile hath stopt her breath: What further woe conspires against my age?

Prin. Looke: and thou shalt see

Moun. O thou vntaught, what manners is in this, To presse before thy Father to a graue?

Prin. Seale vp the mouth of outrage for a while, Till we can cleare these ambiguities, And know their spring, their head, their true descent, And then I will be generall of your woes, And lead you euen to death? meane time forbeare, And let mischance be slaue to patience, Bring forth the parties of suspition

Fri. I am the greatest, able to doe least, Yet most suspected as the time and place Doth make against me of this direfull murther: And heere I stand both to impeach and purge My selfe condemned, and my selfe excus'd

Prin. Then say at once, what thou dost know in this?

Fri. I will be briefe, for my short date of breath Is not so long as is a tedious tale.

Romeo there dead, was husband to that Iuliet, And she there dead, that's Romeos faithfull wife: I married them; and their stolne marriage day Was Tybalts Doomesday: whose vntimely death Banish'd the new-made Bridegroome from this Citie: For whom (and not for Tybalt) Iuliet pinde.

You, to remoue that siege of Greefe from her, Betroth'd, and would haue married her perforce To Countie Paris. Then comes she to me, And (with wilde lookes) bid me deuise some meanes To rid her from this second Marriage, Or in my Cell there would she kill her selfe.

Then gaue I her (so Tutor'd by my Art) A sleeping Potion, which so tooke effect As I intended, for it wrought on her The forme of death. Meane time, I writ to Romeo, That he should hither come, as this dyre night, To helpe to take her from her borrowed graue, Being the time the Potions force should cease.

But he which bore my Letter, Frier Iohn, Was stay'd by accident; and yesternight Return'd my Letter backe. Then all alone, At the prefixed houre of her waking, Came I to take her from her Kindreds vault, Meaning to keepe her closely at my Cell, Till I conueniently could send to Romeo.

But when I came (some Minute ere the time Of her awaking) heere vntimely lay The n.o.ble Paris, and true Romeo dead.

Shee wakes, and I intreated her come foorth, And beare this worke of Heauen, with patience: But then, a noyse did scarre me from the Tombe, And she (too desperate) would not go with me, But (as it seemes) did violence on her selfe.

All this I know, and to the Marriage her Nurse is priuy: And if ought in this miscarried by my fault, Let my old life be sacrific'd, some houre before the time, Vnto the rigour of seuerest Law

Prin. We still haue knowne thee for a Holy man.

Where's Romeo's man? What can he say to this?

Boy. I brought my Master newes of Iuliets death, And then in poste he came from Mantua To this same place, to this same Monument.

This Letter he early bid me giue his Father, And threatned me with death, going in the Vault, If I departed not, and left him there

Prin. Giue me the Letter, I will look on it.

Where is the Counties Page that rais'd the Watch?

Sirra, what made your Master in this place?

Page. He came with flowres to strew his Ladies graue, And bid me stand aloofe, and so I did: Anon comes one with light to ope the Tombe, And by and by my Maister drew on him, And then I ran away to call the Watch

Prin. This Letter doth make good the Friers words, Their course of Loue, the tydings of her death: And heere he writes, that he did buy a poyson Of a poore Pothecarie, and therewithall Came to this Vault to dye, and lye with Iuliet.

Where be these Enemies? Capulet, Mountague, See what a scourge is laide vpon your hate, That Heauen finds meanes to kill your ioyes with Loue; And I, for winking at your discords too, Haue lost a brace of Kinsmen: All are punish'd

Cap. O Brother Mountague, giue me thy hand, This is my Daughters ioynture, for no more Can I demand

Moun. But I can giue thee more: For I will raise her Statue in pure Gold, That whiles Verona by that name is knowne, There shall no figure at that Rate be set, As that of True and Faithfull Iuliet

Cap. As rich shall Romeo by his Lady ly, Poore sacrifices of our enmity

Prin. A glooming peace this morning with it brings, The Sunne for sorrow will not shew his head; Go hence, to haue more talke of these sad things, Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished.

For neuer was a Storie of more Wo, Then this of Iuliet, and her Romeo.

Exeunt. omnes

FINIS. THE TRAGEDIE OF ROMEO and IVLIET

The Life of Timon of Athens

Enter Poet, Painter, Ieweller, Merchant, and Mercer, at seuerall doores.