Par.
Give me thy torch, boy: Hence, and stand aloof ^note;—
Yet put it out, [giving it back.] for I would not be seen. [Boy puts out the Torch.
Under yon' yew-trees ^note lay thee all along,
Holding thine ear ^note 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 signal that thou hear'st something approach.
Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go.

&clquo;Pag.
&clquo;I am almost afraid to stand alone ^note&crquo;
&clquo;Here in the church-yard; yet I will adventure.&crquo; [retires.

Par.
Sweet flower14Q1411, [going up to the Tomb.] with flowers thy bridal bed I † strew:
  O woe, thy canopy ^note is dust and stones!
Which with sweet water nightly I will dew ^note;
  Or, wanting that, with tears distill'd by moans:
The obsequies, that I for thee will keep
Nightly, shall be—to strew thy grave, and weep. [Boy whistles.
The boy gives warning, something doth approach.
What cursed foot wanders this way ^note to-night,
To cross my obsequies, and true love's rites? ^note
What, with a torch!—muffle me, night ^note, a while. [retires. Enter Romeo; Balthazar ^note with him, bearing a Torch, Mattock, &c.

Rom.
Give me that mattock ^note, and the wrenching iron. [takes them, and approaches the Tomb.
Hold, take this &dagger2; 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 see'st, 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 ^{note note} 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 tigers, or the roaring sea.

Bal.
I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you. ^note

Rom.
So shalt thou shew me friendship. Take thou &dagger2; that:
Live, and be prosperous; and farewel, good fellow.

&clquo;Bal.
&clquo;For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout;&crquo;
&clquo;His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt.&crquo; [retires.

Rom.
Thou détestable maw, thou womb of death, [fixing his Mattock in the Tomb.
Gorg'd with the dearest morsel of the earth,
Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open, [Tomb opens.
And, in despite, I'll cram thee with more food.

Par.
This is that banish'd haughty Mountague,
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 villanous shame
To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him.—
Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Mountague; [draws, and rushes forward.
Can vengeance be pursu'd further than death?
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 desperate man,
Fly hence and leave me; think upon these ^note gone,
Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, youth,
Put not ^note 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 arm'd against myself:
Stay not, be gone; live, and hereafter say—
A madman's mercy bid thee run away.

Par.
I do defy thy conjuration ^{note note},14Q1412
And apprehend thee for a felon here. ^note

Rom.
Wilt thou provoke me? then have at thee, boy. [draws, and they fight.

Pag.
O lord ^note! they fight: I will go call the watch. [Exit Page.

Par.
O, I am slain!—[falls.] If thou be merciful,
Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet. [dies.

Rom.
In faith, I will:—Let me peruse this face;— [holds the Torch to it.
Mercutio's ^note kinsman, noble county Paris:—
What said my man, when my betossed soul
Did not attend him as we rode? I think,
He told me, Paris should have marry'd 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, slaughter'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. [enters the Tomb, carrying in the Body.
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 suck'd ^note the honey of thy breath,
Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty:
Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet
Is crimson in thy lips, and in thy cheeks,

And death's pale flag is not advanced there.—
Tybalt, ly'st thou there in thy bloody sheet?
O, what more favour can I do to thee,
Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain
To sunder his that was thine enemy ^note?
Forgive me, cousin!—Ah, dear Juliet,
Why art thou yet so fair? Shall I believe ^note
That unsubstantial death is amorous;
And that the lean abhorred monster keeps
Thee here in dark to be his paramour?
For fear of that, I will still stay with thee;
And never from this palace ^note of dim night
Depart again: here, here will I remain ^note [throwing himself by her.
With worms that are thy chamber-maids; o, here
Will I set up my everlasting rest;
And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars
From this world ^note-weary'd 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, unsavoury guide, [pours it into a Cup.
Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on
The dashing rocks my ^note sea-sick weary bark!
Here's to my love!—[drinks.] O true apothecary!
Thy drugs are quick.—Thus with a kiss I die. [kisses her, and expires. Enter, at other end ^note the Yard, Friar Lawrence, with a Lanthorn, Crow, and Spade.

Fri.
Saint Francis ^note be my speed! how oft to-night
Have my old feet stumbl'd at graves?—Who's there?

Bal.
Here's one, a friend, and one that knows you well.

Fri.
Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend,
What torch is yond', that vainly lends his light
To grubs and eyeless sculls? as I ^note discern,
It burneth in the Capulets' ^note monument.

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

Fri.
Who is it?

Bal.
Romeo.

Fri.
How long hath he been there?

Bal.
Full half an hour.

Fri.
Go with me to the vault.

Bal.
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.

Fri.
Stay then, I'll go alone;—Fear ^note comes upon me;
O, much I fear some ill unlucky ^note thing.

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

Fri.
Romeo?— [leaves him, and goes forward.
Alack, alack! what blood is this, which stains
The stony entrance of this sepulcher?—
What mean these masterless and gory swords
To lie discolour'd by this place of peace?— [enters the Monument.
Romeo! o, pale!—Who else? what, Paris too?
And steep'd in blood?—Ah, what an únkind hour
Is guilty of this lamentable chance!—
The lady stirs. [Juliet wakes, and looks about her.

Jul.
O comfortable friar, where is ^note my lord?
I do remember well where I should be,
And there I am; Where is my Romeo? [Noise within.

Fri.
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,—[Noise again.] I dare stay no longer ^note. [Exit, hastily.

Jul.
Go, get thee hence, for I will not away.—
What's here? a cup, clos'd in my true love's hand?
Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end:—
O churl, drink ^note all; and leave no ^note friendly drop,
To help me after?—I will kiss thy lips;
Haply, some poison yet doth hang on them,
To make me die with a restorative. [kisses him.
Thy lips are warm.

1. W. [within.]
Lead, boy; Which way?

Jul.
Yea, noise? then I'll be brief.—O happy dagger! [taking Romeo's.
This ^note is thy ^note sheath; [stabs herself.] there rust, and let me die. [throws herself upon her Lover, and expires. Enter Watch, and the Page.

Pag.
This is the place; there, where the torch doth burn.

1. W.
The ground is bloody; Search about the churchyard;
Go, some of you, whoe'er you find, attach. [Exeunt some of the Watch, the rest enter the Tomb.

Pitiful sight! here lies the county slain;—
And Juliet bleeding; warm, and newly dead,
Who here hath lain these two ^note days buried.—
Go, tell the prince,—run to the Capulets,—
Raise up the Mountagues,—some other search:— [Exeunt other Watch.
We see the ground whereon these woes do lie;
But the true ground of all these piteous woes,
We cannot without circumstance descry. Enter some of the Watch, with Balthazar.

2. W.
Here's Romeo's man, we found him in the church-yard.

1. W.
Hold him in safety, 'till the prince come ^note hither. Enter Others, with Friar Lawrence.

3. W.
Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs, and weeps;
We took this mattock and this spade from him,
As he was coming from this church ^note-yard ^note side.

1. W.
A great suspicion; Stay the friar too. ^note Enter Prince, and Attendants.

Pri.
What misadventure is so early up,
That calls our person from our morning's ^note rest? Enter Capulet, his Lady, and Others.

Cap.
What should it be, that they so ^note shriek abroad?

L. C.
The people in the street cry—Romeo,
Some—Juliet, and some—Paris; and all run,
With open out-cry, toward our monument. [Prince, and the rest, enter the Monument.

Pri.
What fear is this, which startles in our ^note ears? [to the Watch.

1. W.
Sovereign, here lies the county Paris slain;
And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before,
Warm and new kill'd.

Pri.
Search, seek, and know how this foul murther ^note comes.

1. W.
Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's man;
With instruments upon them, fit to open
These dead men's tombs.

Cap.
O heaven! ^note—O, wife, look how our daughter bleeds!
This dagger hath mis-ta'en, for, lo, his house
Is empty on the back of Mountague,
And is mis-sheathed ^note in my daughter's bosom.

L. C.
O me! this sight of death is as a bell,
That warns my old age to a sepulcher. Enter Mountague, and Others.

Pri.
Come, Mountague; for thou art early ^note up,
To see thy son and heir now early down.

Mou.
Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night;
Grief of my son's exíle hath stopt her breath:
What further woe conspires against my age ^note?

Pri.
Look, and thou shalt see. [showing Romeo.

Mou.
O thou untaught! what manners is in ^note this,
To press before thy father to a grave?

Pri.
Seal up the mouth ^note of outrage for a while, [comes from the Monument.
'Till we can clear these ambiguities,
And know their spring, their head, their true descent;
And then will I be general of your woes,
And lead you even to death: mean time forbear,
And let mischance be slave to patience.—
Bring forth the parties of suspicion. [Balthazar, and the Friar, brought forth.

Fri.
I am the greatest, able to do least,
Yet most suspected, as the time and place
Doth make against me, of this direful murther;

And here I stand, both to impeach and purge
Myself condemned and myself excus'd.

Pri.
Then say at once what thou dost know in this.

Fri.
I will be brief, for my short date of breath
Is not so long as is a tedious tale.
Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet;
And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife:
I marry'd them; and their stoln marriage-day
Was Tybalt's dooms-day, whose untimely death
Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from this city;
For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pin'd.
You—to remove that siege of grief from her—
Betroth'd, and would have marry'd her perforce,
To county Paris: Then comes she to me;
And, with wild looks, bid me devise some means
To rid her from this second marriage,
Or, in my cell, there would she kill herself.
Then gave I her, so tutor'd by my art,
A sleeping potion; which so took effect
As I intended, for it wrought on her
The form of death: mean time I writ to Romeo,
That he should hither come as this dire night,
To help to take her from her borrow'd grave,
Being the time the potion's force should cease.
But he which bore my letter, friar John,
Was stay'd by accident; and yesternight
Return'd my letter back: Then all alone,
At the prefixed hour of her waking,
Came I to take her from her kindred's vault;
Meaning to keep her closely at my cell,
'Till I conveniently could send to Romeo:
But, when I came, (some minute ere the time

Of her awaking ^note) here untimely lay
The noble Paris, and true Romeo, dead.
She wakes; and I entreated her come forth,
And bear this work of heaven with patience:
But then a noise did scare me from the tomb;
And she, too desperate, would not go with me,
But (as it seems) did violence on herself.
All this I know; and to the marriage
Her nurse is privy: And, if ought in this
Miscarry'd by my fault, let my old life
Be sacrific'd, some hour before his time ^note,
Unto the rigour of severest law.

Pri.
We still have known thee for a holy man.—
Where's Romeo's man? what can he say in this ^note?

Bal.
I brought my master news of Juliet's death;
And then in post he came from Mantua,
To this same place, to this same monument.
This † letter he early bid me give his father;
And threaten'd me with death, going in the vault,
If I departed not, and left ^note him there.

Pri.
Give me the letter, I will look on it.— [Balthazar gives the Letter.
Where is the county's page, that rais'd the watch?—
Sirrah, what made your master in this place?

Pag.
He came with flowers to strew his lady's grave;
And bid me stand aloof, and so I did:
Anon, comes one with light to ope the tomb;
And, by and by, my master drew on him;
And then I ran away to call the watch.

Pri.
This letter doth make good the friar's words,
Their course of love, the tidings of her death:
And here he writes—that he did buy a poison

Of a poor 'pothecary, and therewithal
Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet.—
Where be these enemies, Capulet, Mountague?—
See, what a scourge is lay'd upon your hate,
That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love:
And I, for winking at your discords too,
Have lost a brace of kinsmen; all are punish'd.

Cap.
O, brother Mountague, give me thy hand:
This is my daughter's jointure, for no more
Can I demand.

Mou.
But I can give thee more:
For I will raise ^note her statue in pure gold;
That, while ^note Verona by that name is known,
There shall no figure at such rate ^note be set,
As that of true and faithful Juliet.

Cap.
As rich shall Romeo by his lady ^note lie;
Poor sacrifices of our enmity.

Pri.
A glooming ^note peace this morning with it brings;
  The sun, for sorrow, will not shew his head:
Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things;
  Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished:
For never was a story of more woe,
Than this of Juliet and her Romeo. [Exeunt.

HAMLET.

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