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Enter Montague [and others]. |
Prince. Come, Montague; for thou art early up |
To see thy son and heir more early down. |
Mon. Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night! |
Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath. |
What further woe conspires against mine age? |
Prince. Look, and thou shalt see. |
Mon. O thou untaught! what manners is in this, |
To press before thy father to a grave? |
Prince. Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while, |
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. Meantime forbear, |
And let mischance be slave to patience. |
Bring forth the parties of suspicion. |
Friar. 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. |
Prince. Then say it once what thou dost know in this. |
Friar. 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 married them; and their stol'n marriage day |
Was Tybalt's doomsday, 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 married her perforce |
To County Paris. Then comes she to me |
And with wild looks bid me devise some mean |
To rid her from this second marriage, |
Or in my cell there would she kill herself. |
Then gave I her (so tutored by my art) |
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 borrowed 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 sacrific'd, 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? |
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 threat'ned me with death, going in the vault, |
If I departed not and left him there. |
Prince. Give me the letter. I will look on it. |
Where is the County's page that rais'd the watch? |
Sirrah, what made your master in this place? |
Boy. 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, Montage, |
See what a scourge is laid upon your hate, |
That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love! |
And I, for winking at you, discords too, |
Have lost a brace of kinsmen. All are punish'd. |
Cap. O brother Montague, give me thy hand. |
This is my daughter's jointure, for no more |
Can I demand. |
Mon. But I can give thee more; |
For I will raise her Statue in pure gold, |
That whiles Verona by that name is known, |
There shall no figure at such rate be set |
As that of true and faithful Juliet. |
Cap. As rich shall Romeo's by his lady's lie- |
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