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Page. I am almost afraid to stand alone Here in the church-yard; yet I will adventure.
[Retires Par. Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal bed I strew. Fair Juliet, that with angels dost remain, Accept this latest favor at my hands; That living honor'd thee; and, being dead, With funeral praises do adurn thy tomb! [The Boy whistles. The boy gives warning, something doth approach. What cursed foot wanders this way to-night, To cross my obsequies, and true love's rites ? What, with a torch !-muffle me, night, a while.
[Retires. Enter Romeo, and BALTHASAR, with a torch, mattock, fc. Rom. Give me that mattock, and the wrenching iron Hold, take this 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 seest, 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 further 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.
Rom. So shalt thou show me friendship. --Take thou that Live, and be prosperous ; and farewell, good fellow.
Bal. For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout ; His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt.
[Retires Rom. Thou detestable maw, Gorg’d with the dearest morsel of the earth, Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open,
[Breaking open the door of the monument And, in despite, I'll cram thee with more food!
Par. Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague ; [Advances
Rom. I must, indeed; and therefore came I hither.-
gone ; Let them affright thee :- I beseech thee, youth,
Heap not another sin upon my head,
Par. I do defy thy conjurations,
[They fight. 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 ;Mercutio's kinsman, noble County Paris.One writ with me in sour misfortune's book! I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave,For here lies Juliet.—0, my love! my wife! Death, that hath suck'd 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 thereAh, dear Juliet, why art thou yet so fair ? Here, here will I remain : 0, here Will I set up my everlasting rest ; And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars From this world-wearied flesh. Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavory guide ! Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark ! Here's to my love !—[Drinks.]—0, true apothecary! Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die.
[Dies. Enter, at the other end of the church-yard, Friar LAURENCE, with a
lantern, crow, and spade.
my master, One that
Who is it?
Full half an hour.
Fri. Gc with me to the vault.
I dare not, sir :
Fri. Stay then, I'll go alone :-Fear comes upon me;
Bal. As I did sleep under this yew-tree here,
Advances Alack, alack, what blood is this, which stains The stony entrance of this sepulchre ?What mean these masterless and gory swords To lie discolor'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 unkind hour Is guilty of this lamentable chance ! The lady stirs.
[JULIET wakes and stirs. Jul. O, comfortable friar! where is my ord ? 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.
[Exut. 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 all; and leave no 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 !
ist Watch. [Within.] Lead, boy :-Which way?
(Snatching Romeo's dagger. This is thy sheath ; [Stabs herself.) there rust, and let me die.
Falls on ROMEO's body, and dies.
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE.
This Play is justly placed among the most perfect of Shakspeare's compositions. The master-piece of character, as exhibited in Shylock the Jew, would alone entitle it to this classification,
The double plot of this Drama was borrowed by Shakspeare from traditionary stories current in his time. The Jews at that period were a despised and persecuted race; the Poet has lent himself to the prejudices entertained by Christians against Jews, and yet he has made Shylock appear as the champion and avenger of an oppressed people, rather than the sordid contemptible character, then thought to be the distinctive qualification of “God's ancient people.” dddd
DUKE OF VENICE.
suitors to Portia.
JESSICA, daughter to Shylock.
and other Attendants. SCENE,-partly at VENICE, and partly at BELMONT, the Seat of PORTIA,
on the Continent.
SCENE I.–Venice. A Street.
Enter Antonio, SALARINO, and SALANDO
Salar. Your mind is tossing on the ocean ;
Salan. "Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth,
My wind, cooling my broth, Would blow me to an ague, when I thought What harm a wind too great might do at sea. I should not see the sandy hour-glass run, But I should think of shallows and of flats; And see my wealthy Andrew dock'd in sand, Vailing her high-top lower than her ribs, To kiss her burial. Should I go to church, And see the holy edifice of stone, And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks ? Which touching but my gentle vessel's side, Would scatter all her spices on the stream ; Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks ; And, in a word, but even now worth this, And now worth nothing ? Shall I have the thought To think on this ; and shall I lack the thought, That such a thing, bechancd, would make me sad ? But tell not me; I know Antonio Is sad to think
his merchandise. Ant. Believe me, no: I thank my fortune for it, My ventures are not in one bottom trusted,