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= ROOT|Literature|english|1500-1599|shakespeare-romeo-48.txt =

page 46 of 46



	A sleeping potion; which so took effect
	As I intended, for it wrought on her
	The form of death: meantime 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, 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 aught in this
	Miscarried by my fault, let my old life
	Be sacrificed, some hour before his time,
	Unto the rigour of severest law.

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

BALTHASAR	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 threatened me with death, going in the vault,
	I departed not and left him there.

PRINCE	Give me the letter; I will look on it.
	Where is the county's page, that raised the watch?
	Sirrah, what made your master in this place?

PAGE	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.

PRINCE	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! Montague!
	See, what a scourge is laid 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.

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

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

CAPULET	As rich shall Romeo's by his lady's lie;
	Poor sacrifices of our enmity!

PRINCE	A glooming peace this morning with it brings;
	The sun, for sorrow, will not show 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]
=46=
THE END

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