Romeo and Juliet (25 page)

“And if a man did need a poison now
Whose sale is present death in Mantua,
Here lives a caitiff° wretch would sell it him.”
O, this same thought did but forerun my need,
And this same needy man must sell it me.
As I remember, this should be the house.
Being holiday, the beggar’s shop is shut.
What, ho! Apothecary!

[
Enter Apothecary.
]

Apothecary.
Who calls so loud?

Romeo.
Come hither, man. I see that thou art poor.
Hold, there is forty ducats. Let me have
A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear°
As will disperse itself through all the veins
That the life-weary taker may fall dead,
And that the trunk° may be discharged of breath
As violently as hasty powder fired
Doth hurry from the fatal cannon’s womb.

Apothecary.
Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua’s
law
Is death to any he that utters° them.

Romeo.
Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness
And fearest to die? Famine is in thy cheeks,
Need and oppression starveth° in thy eyes,
Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back:
The world is not thy 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.

Apothecary.
My poverty but not my will consents.

Romeo.
I pay thy poverty and not thy will.

Apothecary.
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.

Romeo.
There is thy gold—worse poison to men’s
souls,
Doing more murder in this loathsome world,
Than these poor compounds that thou mayst 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.

 

John.
Holy Franciscan father, brother, ho!

Enter
[
Friar
]
Lawrence.

Lawrence.
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 barefoot 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 pestilence did reign,
Sealed up the doors, and would not let us forth,
So that my speed to Mantua there was stayed.

Lawrence.
Who bare 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.

Lawrence.
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.

Lawrence.
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, closed in a dead man’s tomb!
Exit.

Enter Paris and his Page
[
with flowers and sweet water
].

 

Paris.
Give 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,°
Holding thy ear close to the hollow ground.
So shall no foot upon the churchyard tread
(Being loose, unfirm, with digging up of graves)
But thou shalt hear it. Whistle then to me,
As signal that thou hearest something approach.
Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go.

Page.
[
Aside
] I am almost afraid to stand alone

Here in the churchyard; yet I will adventure.°

[
Retires.
]

Paris.
Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal bed I strew
(O woe! thy canopy is dust and stones)
Which with sweet° water nightly I will dew;
Or, wanting that, with tears distilled by moans.
The obsequies that I for thee will keep
Nightly shall be to strew thy grave and weep.

The boy gives warning something doth approach.
What cursèd foot wanders this way tonight
To cross° my obsequies and true love’s rite?
What, with a torch? Muffle° me, night, awhile.

[
Retires.
]

Enter Romeo,
[
and Balthasar with a torch, a mattock,
and a crow of iron
].

Romeo.
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 hearest 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
A precious ring—a ring that I must use.
In dear employment.° Therefore hence, be gone.
But if thou, jealous,° dost return to pry
In what I farther shall intend to do,
By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint
And strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs.
The time and my intents are savage-wild,
More fierce and more inexorable far
Than empty tigers or the roaring sea.

Balthasar.
I will be gone, sir, and not trouble ye.

Romeo.
So shalt thou show me friendship. Take thou
that.
Live, and be prosperous; and farewell, good fellow.

Balthasar.
[
Aside
] For all this same, I’ll hide me here-
about.
His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt.° [
Retires.
]

Romeo.
Thou detestable maw,° thou womb of death,
Gorged with the dearest morsel of the earth,
Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open,
And in despite° I’ll cram thee with more food.

[
Romeo opens the tomb.
]

Paris.
This is that banished haughty Montague
That murd’red my love’s cousin—with which grief
It is supposed the fair creature died—
And here is come to do some villainous shame
To the dead bodies. I will apprehend him.
Stop thy unhallowèd toil, vile Montague!
Can vengeance be pursued further than death?
Condemnèd villain, I do apprehend thee.
Obey, and go with me; for thou must die.

Romeo.
I must indeed; and therefore came I hither.
Good gentle youth, tempt not a desp’rate man.
Fly hence and leave me. Think upon these gone;
Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, youth,
Put not another sin upon my head
By urging me to fury. O, be gone!
By heaven, I love thee better than myself,
For I come hither armed against myself.
Stay not, be gone. Live, and hereafter say
A madman’s mercy bid thee run away.

Paris.
I do defy thy conjurations.°
And apprehend thee for a felon here.

Romeo.
Wilt thou provoke me? Then have at thee, boy!

[
They fight.
]

Page.
O Lord, they fight! I will go call the watch.

[
Exit. Paris falls.
]

Paris.
O, I am slain! If thou be merciful,
Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet. [
Dies.
]

Romeo.
In faith, I will. Let me peruse this face.
Mercutio’s kinsman, noble County Paris!
What said my man when my betossèd soul
Did not attend° him as we rode? I think
He told me Paris should have married Juliet.
Said he not so, or did I dream it so?
Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet,
To think it was so? O, give me thy hand,
One writ with me in sour misfortune’s book!
I’ll bury thee in a triumphant grave.
A grave? O, no, a lanthorn,° slaught’red 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 interred.

[
Lays him in the tomb.
]

How oft when men are at the point of death
Have they been merry! Which their keepers° call
A lightning before death. O, how may I
Call this a lightning? O my love, my wife!
Death, that hath sucked the honey of thy breath,
Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.
Thou art not conquered. Beauty’s ensign° yet
Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks,
And death’s pale flag is not advancèd there.
Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet?
O, what more favor can I do to thee
Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain
To sunder his that was thine enemy?
Forgive me, cousin! Ah, dear Juliet,
Why art thou yet so fair? Shall I believe
That unsubstantial Death is amorous,

And that the lean abhorrèd monster keeps
Thee here in dark to be his paramour?
For fear of that I still will stay with thee
And never from this pallet of dim night
Depart again. Here, here will I remain
With worms that are thy chambermaids. O, here
Will I set up my everlasting rest
And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars
From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last!
Arms, take your last embrace! And, lips, O you
The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss
A dateless° bargain to engrossing° death!
Come, bitter conduct;° come, unsavory guide!
Thou desperate pilot,° now at once run on
The dashing rocks thy seasick weary bark!
Here’s to my love! [
Drinks.
] O true apothecary!
Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die. [
Falls.
]

Enter Friar
[
Lawrence
]
, with lanthorn, crow, and spade.

Friar.
Saint Francis be my speed!° How oft tonight
Have my old feet stumbled° at graves! Who’s there?

Balthasar.
Here’s one, a friend, and one that knows
you well.

Friar.
Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend,
What torch is yond that vainly lends his light
To grubs and eyeless skulls? As I discern,
It burneth in the Capels’ monument.

Balthasar.
It doth so, holy sir; and there’s my master,
One that you love.

Friar.
Who is it?

Balthasar.
Romeo.

Friar.
How long hath he been there?

Balthasar.
Full half an hour.

Friar.
Go with me to the vault.

Balthasar.
I dare not, sir.
My master knows not but I am gone hence,
And fearfully did menace me with death
If I did stay to look on his intents.

Friar.
Stay then; I’ll go alone. Fear comes upon me.
O, much I fear some ill unthrifty° thing.

Balthasar.
As I did sleep under this yew tree here,
I dreamt my master and another fought,
And that my master slew him.

Friar.
Romeo!
Alack, alack, what blood is this which stains
The stony entrance of this sepulcher?
What mean these masterless and gory swords
To lie discolored by this place of peace?

[
Enters the tomb.
]

Romeo! O, pale! Who else? What, Paris too?
And steeped in blood? Ah, what an unkind° hour
Is guilty of this lamentable chance!
The lady stirs. [
Juliet rises.
]

Juliet.
O comfortable° friar! Where is my lord?
I do remember well where I should be,
And there I am. Where is my Romeo?

Friar.
I hear some noise. Lady, come from that nest
Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep.
A greater power than we can contradict
Hath thwarted our intents. Come, come away.
Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead;
And Paris too. Come, I’ll dispose of thee
Among a sisterhood of holy nuns.
Stay not to question, for the watch is coming.
Come, go, good Juliet. I dare no longer stay.