Jul.
Ay, those attires are best: but, gentle nurse,
I pray thee, leave me to myself to-night;
For I have need of many orisons
To move the heavens to smile upon my state,
Which, well thou know'st ^note, is cross and full of sin. Enter Lady Capulet. ^note

La. Cap. ^note
What, are you busy, ho? need you ^note my help?

Jul.
No, madam; we have cull'd such necessaries
As are behoveful ^note for our state to-morrow:
So please you, let me now be left alone,
And let the nurse this night sit up with you,
For I am sure you have your hands full all
In this so sudden business.

La. Cap. ^note
Good night:
Get thee to bed and rest, for thou hast need. [Exeunt Lady Capulet and Nurse. ^note

Jul.
Farewell! ^note God knows when we shall meet again.
I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins,
That almost freezes up the heat of life ^note:
I'll call them back again ^note to comfort me.
Nurse!— ^note What should she do here?
My dismal scene I needs must act alone.

Come, vial ^note.
What ^note if this mixture do not work at all?
Shall I be married then ^note? to-morrow morning ^note
No, no: this shall forbid it. Lie ^note thou there. [Laying ^note down a dagger.
What if it be a poison, which the friar
Subtly hath minister'd to have me dead,
Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd,
Because he married me before to Romeo?
I fear it is: and yet, methinks, it should not,
For he hath still been tried a holy ^note man. ^note
How if, when I am laid into the tomb,
I wake before the time that Romeo
Come ^note to redeem me? there's a fearful point.
Shall I not then be stifled ^note in the vault,
To whose foul mouth ^note no healthsome air breathes in,
And there die ^note strangled ere my Romeo comes? ^note
Or, if I live, is it ^note not very like,
The horrible conceit of death and night,
Together ^note with the terror of the place,
As in a vault, an ancient receptacle,
Where for this ^note many hundred years the bones
Of all my buried ancestors are pack'd;
Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth,
Lies festering in his shroud; where, as they say,
At some hours in the night spirits resort;
Alack, alack ^note, is it not like that I

So early waking, what with loathsome smells
And shrieks ^note like mandrakes' ^note torn out of the earth,
That living mortals hearing them run mad:
O, if I wake ^note, shall I not be distraught,
Environed ^note with all these hideous fears?
And madly play with my forefathers' joints ^note?
And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud?
And, in this rage, with some great kinsman's ^note bone,
As with a club, dash out my desperate brains?
O, look! methinks I see my cousin's ghost
Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body
Upon a ^note rapier's point ^note: stay, Tybalt, stay! ^note
Romeo, I come! this do ^note I drink to thee ^note. [She falls upon her bed, within the curtains. ^{note note}

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