Act 5 — The most excellent Tragedie of Romeo and Iuliet. (continued 2)

Nur: Put vp, put vp, this is a wofull case. Exit.80 1. I by my troth Mistresse is it, it had need be mended.

Ser: Alack alack what shal I doe, come Fidlers play me some mery dumpe. 1. A sir, this is no time to play. Ser: You will not then? 85 1. No marry will wee. Ser: Then will I giue it you, and soundly to. 1. What will you giue vs? Ser: The fidler, Ile re you, Ile fa you, Ile sol you. 1. If you re vs and fa vs, we will note you. 90 Ser: I will put vp my Iron dagger, and beate you with my wodden wit. Come on Simon found Pot, Ile pose you, 1. Lets heare. Ser: When griping griefe the heart doth wound, And dolefull dumps the minde oppresse: 95 Then musique with her siluer sound, Why siluer sound? Why siluer sound? 1. I thinke because musicke hath a sweet sound. Ser: Pretie, what say you Mathew minikine? 2. I thinke because Musitions sound for siluer. 100 Ser: Prettie too: come, what say you? 3. I say nothing. Ser: I thinke so, Ile speake for you because you are the Singer. I saye Siluer sound, because such Fellowes as you haue sildome Golde for sounding. Farewell Fidlers, 105 farewell. Exit. 1. Farewell and be hangd: come lets goe. Exeunt.

Rom: If I may trust the flattering Eye of Sleepe, My Dreame presagde some good euent to come. My bosome Lord sits chearfull in his throne, And I am comforted with pleasing dreames. Me thought I was this night alreadie dead: 5 (Strange dreames that giue a dead man leaue to thinke) And that my Ladie Iuliet came to me, And breathd such life with kisses in my lips, That I reuiude and was an Emperour.

Newes from Verona. How now Balthasar, 10 How doth my Ladie? Is my Father well? How fares my Juliet? that I aske againe: If she be well, then nothing can be ill. Balt: Then nothing can be ill, for she is well, Her bodie sleepes in Capels Monument, 15 And her immortall parts with Angels dwell. Pardon me Sir, that am the Messenger of such bad tidings. Rom: Is it euen so? then I defie my Starres. Goe get me incke and paper, hyre post horse, I will not stay in Mantua to night. 20 Balt: Pardon me Sir, I will not leaue you thus, Your lookes are dangerous and full of feare: I dare not, nor I will not leaue you yet. Rom: Doo as I bid thee, get me incke and paper, And hyre those horse: stay not I say. 25

Well Iuliet, I will lye with thee to night. Lets see for meanes. As I doo remember Here dwells a Pothecarie whom oft I noted As I past by, whose needie shop is stufft With beggerly accounts of emptie boxes: 30 And in the same an Aligarta hangs, Olde endes of packthred, and cakes of Roses, Are thinly strewed to make vp a show. Him as I noted, thus with my selfe I thought: And if a man should need a poyson now, 35 (Whose present sale is death in Mantua) Here he might buy it. This thought of mine Did but forerunne my need: and here about he dwels. Being Holiday the Beggers shop is shut. What ho Apothecarie, come forth I say. 40

Apo: Who calls, what would you sir? Rom: Heeres twentie duckates, Giue me a dram of some such speeding geere, As will dispatch the wearie takers life, As suddenly as powder being fierd 45 From forth a Cannons mouth. Apo: Such drugs I haue I must of force confesse, But yet the law is death to those that sell them. Rom: Art thou so bare and full of pouertie, And doost thou feare to violate the Law? 50 The Law is not thy frend, nor the Lawes frend, And therefore make no conscience of the law: Vpon thy backe hangs ragged Miserie, And starued Famine dwelleth in thy cheekes. Apo: My pouertie but not my will consents. 55 Rom: I pay thy pouertie, but not thy will. Apo: Hold take you this, and put it in anie liquid thing you will, and it will serue had you the liues of twenty men. Rom: Hold, take this gold, worse poyson to mens soules Than this which thou hast giuen me. Goe hye thee hence, 60 Goe buy the cloathes, and get thee into flesh. Come cordiall and not poyson, goe with mee To Iuliets Graue: for there mvst I vse thee. Exeunt.

John: What Frier Laurence, Brother, ho? Laur: This same should be the voyce of Frier Iohn. What newes from Mantua, what will Romeo come? Iohn: Going to seeke a barefoote Brother out, One of our order to associate mee, 5 Here in this Cittie visiting the sick, Whereas the infectious pestilence remaind: And being by the Searchers of the Towne Found and examinde, we were both shut vp. Laur: Who bare my letters then to Romeo? 10 Iohn: I haue them still, and here they are. Laur: Now by my holy Order, The letters were not nice, but of great weight. Goe get thee hence, and get me presently A spade and mattocke. 15 Iohn: Well I will presently go fetch thee them. Exit. Laur: Now must I to the Monument alone, Least that the Ladie should before I come Be wakde from sleepe. I will hye To free her from that Tombe of miserie. Exit. 20

Par: Put out the torch, and lye thee all along Vnder this Ew-tree, keeping thine eare close to the hollow ground. And if thou heare one tread within this Churchyard, Staight giue me notice. 5 Boy: I will my Lord.

Par: Sweete Flower, with flowers I strew thy Bridale bed: Sweete Tombe that in thy circuite dost containe, The perfect modell of eternitie: Faire Iuliet that with Angells dost remaine, 10 Accept this latest fauour at my hands, That liuing honourd thee, and being dead With funerall praises doo adorne thy Tombe. Boy whistles and calls. My Lord.

Par: The boy giues warning, something doth approach. 15 What cursed foote wanders this was to night, To stay my obsequies and true loues rites? What with a torch, muffle me night a while. Rom: Giue mee this mattocke, and this wrentching Iron. And take these letters, early in the morning, 20 See thou deliuer them to my Lord and Father. So get thee gone and trouble me no more. Why I descend into this bed of death, Is partly to behold my Ladies face, But chiefly to take from her dead finger, 25 A precious ring which I must vse In deare imployment: but if thou wilt stay, Further to prie in what I vndertake, By heauen Ile teare thee ioynt by ioynt, And strewe thys hungry churchyard with thy lims 30 The time and my intents are sauage, wilde. Balt: Well, Ile be gone and not trouble you. Rom: So shalt thou win my fauour, take thou this, Commend me to my Father, farwell good fellow. Balt: Yet for all this will I not part from hence. 35

Rom: Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death, Gorde with the dearest morsell of the earth. Thus I enforce thy rotten iawes to ope. Par: This is that banisht haughtie Mountague, That murderd my loues cosen, I will apprehend him. 40 Stop thy vnhallowed toyle vile Mountague. Can vengeance be pursued further then death? I doe attach thee as a fellon heere. The Law condemnes thee, therefore thou must dye, Rom: I must indeed, and therefore came I hither, 45 Good youth be gone, tempt not a desperate man. Heape not another sinne vpon my head By sheding of thy bloud, I doe protest I loue thee better then I loue my selfe: For I come hyther armde against my selfe, 50 Par: I doe defie thy coniurations: And doe attach thee as a fellon heere. Rom: What dost thou tempt me, then haue at thee boy.

Boy: O Lord they fight, I will goe call the watch. Par: Ah I am slaine, if thou be mercifull 55 Open the tombe, lay me with Iuliet. Rom: Yfaith I will, let me peruse this face, Mercutios kinsman, noble County Paris? What said my man, when my betossed soule Did not regard him as we past a long. Did he not say Paris should have maried Iuliet? eyther he said so, or I dreamd it so. But I will satisfie thy last request, For thou hast prizd thy loue aboue thy life. Death lye thou there, by a dead man interd, 65 How oft have many at the houre of death Beene blith and pleasant? which their keepers call A lightning before death But how may I Call this a lightning. Ah deare Iuliet, How well thy beauty doth become this graue? 70 O I beleeue that vnsubstanciall death, Is amorous, and doth court my loue. Therefore will I, O heere, O euer heere, Set vp my euerlasting rest With wormes, that are thy chamber mayds. 75 Come desperate Pilot now at once runne on The dashing rockes thy sea-sicke weary barge. Heers to my loue. O true Apothecary: Thy drugs are swift: thus with a kisse I dye. Falls.

How oft to night haue these my aged feete 80 Stumbled at graues as I did passe along. Whose there? Man. A frend and one that knowes you well. Fr: Who is it that consorts so late the dead, What light is yon? if I be not deceiued, 85 Me thinkes it burnes in Capels monument? Man. It doth so holy Sir, and there is one That loues you dearly. Fr. Who is it? Man: Romeo. 90 Fr: How long hath he beene there? Man: Full halfe an houre and more. Fr: Goe with me thether. Man: I dare not sir, he knowes not I am heere: On paine of death he chargde me to be gone, 95 And not for to disturbe him in his enterprize. Fr: Then must I goe: my minde presageth ill.

What bloud is this that staines the entrance Of this marble stony monument? What meanes these maisterles and goory weapons? Ah me I doubt, whose heere? what Romeo dead? Who and Paris too? what vnluckie houre Is accessary to so foule a sinne?

The Lady sturres.[1595] Ah comfortable Fryer. 105 I doe remember well where I should be, And what we talkt of: but yet I cannot see Him for whose sake I vndertooke this hazard. Fr: Lady come foorth, I heare some noise at hand, We shall be taken, Paris he is slaine, 110 And Romeo dead: and if we heere be tane We shall be thought to be as accessarie. I will prouide for you in some close Nunery. Iul: Ah leaue me, leaue me, I will not from hence. Fr: I heare some noise, I dare not stay, come, come. 115 Iul: Goe get thee gone. Whats heere a cup closde in my louers hands? Ah churle drinke all, and leaue no drop for me.

Watch: This way, this way. Iul: I, noise? then must I be resolute. 120 O happy dagger thou shalt end my feare, Rest in my bosome, thus I come to thee.

Cap: Come looke about, what weapons haue we heere? See frends where Iuliet two daies buried, New bleeding wounded, search and see who's neare, 125 Attach and bring them to vs presently.

1. Captaine heers a Fryer with tooles about him, Fitte to ope a tombe. Cap: A great suspition, keep him safe.

1. Heeres Romeos Man. 130 Capt: Keepe him to be examinde.

Prin: What early mischiefe calls vs vp so soone. Capt: O noble Prince, see here Where Juliet that hath lyen intoombd two dayes, Warme and fresh bleeding, Romeo and Countie Paris 135 Likewise newly slaine. Prin: Search seeke about to finde the murderers.

Capo: What rumor's this that is so early vp? Moth: The people in the streetes crie Romeo, And some on Iuliet: as if they alone 140 Had been the cause of such a mutinie. Capo: See Wife, this dagger hath mistooke: For (loe) the backe is emptie of yong Mountague, And it is sheathed in our Daughters breast.

Prin: Come Mountague, for thou art early vp, 145 To see thy Sonne and Heire more early downe. Mount: Dread Souereigne, my Wife is dead to night, And yong Benuolio is deceased too: What further mischiefe can there yet be found? Prin: First come and see, then speake. 150 Mount: O thou vntaught, what manners is in this To presse before thy Father to a graue. Prin: Come seale your mouthes of outrage for a while, And let vs seeke to finde the Authors out Of such a hainous and seld seene mischaunce. 155 Bring forth the parties in suspition. Fr: I am the greatest able to doo least. Most worthie Prince, heare me but speake the truth. And Ile informe you how these things fell out. Juliet here slaine was married to that Romeo, 160 Without her Fathers or her Mothers grant: The Nurse was priuie to the marriage. The balefull day of this vnhappie marriage, Was Tybalts doomesday: for which Romeo Was banished from hence to Mantua. 165 He gone, her Father sought by foule constraint To marrie her to Paris: But her Soule (Loathing a second Contract) did refuse To giue consent; and therefore did she vrge me Either to finde a meanes she might auoyd 170 What so her Father sought to force her too: Or els all desperately she threatned Euen in my presence to dispatch her selfe. Then did I giue her, (tutord by mine arte) A potion that should make her seeme as dead: 175 And told her that I would with all post speed Send hence to Mantua for her Romeo, That he might come and take her from the Toombe. But he that had my Letters (Frier John) Seeking a Brother to associate him, 180 Whereas the sicke infection remaind, Was stayed by the Searchers of the Towne, But Romeo vnderstanding by his man, That Iuliet was deceasde, returnde in post Vnto Verona for to see his loue. 185 What after happened touching Paris death, Or Romeos is to me vnknowne at all. But when I came to take the Lady hence, I found them dead, and she awakt from sleep: Whom faine I would haue taken from the tombe, 190 Which she refused seeing Romeo dead. Anone I heard the watch and then I fled, What after happened I am ignorant of. And if in this ought haue miscaried. By me, or by my meanes let my old life 195 Be sacrificd some houre before his time. To the most strickest rigor of the Law. Pry: We still haue knowne thee for a holy man, Wheres Romeos man, what can he say in this? Balth: I brought my maister word that shee was dead, 200 And then he poasted straight from Mantua, Vnto this Toombe. These Letters he deliuered me, Charging me early giue them to his Father. Prin: Lets see the Letters, I will read them ouer. Where is the Counties Boy that calld the Watch? 205 Boy: I brought my Master vnto Juliets graue, But one approaching, straight I calld my Master. At last they fought, I ran to call the Watch. And this is all that I can say or know. Prin: These letters doe make good the Fryers wordes, 210 Come Capolet, and come olde Mountagewe. Where are these enemies? see what hate hath done. Cap: Come brother Mountague giue me thy hand, There is my daughters dowry: for now no more Can I bestowe on her, thats all I haue. 215 Moun: But I will giue them more, I will erect Her statue of pure golde: That while Verona by that name is knowne. There shall no statue of such price be set, As that of Romeos loued Iuliet. 220 Cap: As rich shall Romeo by his Lady lie. Poore Sacrifices to our Enmitie. Prin: A gloomie peace this day doth with it bring. Come, let vs hence, To haue more talke of these sad things. 225 Some shall be pardoned and some punished: For nere was heard a Storie of more woe, Than this of Iuliet and her Romeo.