Shakespearefor Bharat
Romeo and Juliet

Act V · Scene III

A churchyard; in it a tomb belonging to the Capulets.

Hover a speech to translate it — or press play to hear it performed.

Enter PARIS, and his Page bearing flowers and a torch

PARIS
Give me thy torch, boy: hence, and stand aloof:Yet put it out, for I would not be seen.Under yond yew-trees lay thee all along,Holding thine ear close to the hollow ground;So shall no foot upon the churchyard 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.
PAGE
[Aside] I am almost afraid to stand aloneHere in the churchyard; yet I will adventure.

Retires

PARIS
Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal bed I strew,--O woe! thy canopy is dust and stones;--Which with sweet water nightly I will dew,Or, wanting that, with tears distill'd by moans:The obsequies that I for thee will keepNightly shall be to strew thy grave and weep.

The Page whistles

PARIS
The boy gives warning something doth approach.What cursed foot wanders this way to-night,To cross my obsequies and true love's rite?What with a torch! muffle me, night, awhile.

Retires

Enter ROMEO and BALTHASAR, with a torch, mattock, & c

ROMEO
Give me that mattock and the wrenching iron.Hold, take this letter; early in the morningSee 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 fingerA precious ring, a ring that I must useIn dear employment: therefore hence, be gone:But if thou, jealous, dost return to pryIn what I further shall intend to do,By heaven, I will tear thee joint by jointAnd strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs:The time and my intents are savage-wild,More fierce and more inexorable farThan empty tigers or the roaring sea.
BALTHASAR
I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you.
ROMEO
So shalt thou show me friendship. Take thou that:Live, and be prosperous: and farewell, good fellow.
BALTHASAR
[Aside] For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout:His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt.

Retires

ROMEO
Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death,Gorged with the dearest morsel of the earth,Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open,And, in despite, I'll cram thee with more food!

Opens the tomb

PARIS
This is that banish'd haughty Montague,That murder'd my love's cousin, with which grief,It is supposed, the fair creature died;And here is come to do some villanous shameTo the dead bodies: I will apprehend him.

Comes forward

PARIS
Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague!Can vengeance be pursued further than death?Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee:Obey, and go with me; for thou must die.
ROMEO
I must indeed; and therefore came I hither.Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man;Fly hence, and leave me: think upon these gone;Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, youth,Put not 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 bade thee run away.
PARIS
I do defy thy conjurations,And apprehend thee for a felon here.
ROMEO
Wilt thou provoke me? then have at thee, boy!

They fight

PAGE
O Lord, they fight! I will go call the watch.

Exit

PARIS
O, I am slain!

Falls

PARIS
If thou be merciful,Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet.

Dies

ROMEO
In faith, I will. Let me peruse this face.Mercutio's kinsman, noble County Paris!What said my man, when my betossed soulDid not attend him as we rode? I thinkHe told me Paris should have married 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 lantern, slaughter'd youth,For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makesThis vault a feasting presence full of light.Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr'd.

Laying PARIS in the tomb

ROMEO
How oft when men are at the point of deathHave they been merry! which their keepers callA lightning before death: O, how may ICall this a lightning? O 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 yetIs crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks,And death's pale flag is not advanced there.Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet?O, what more favour can I do to thee,Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twainTo sunder his that was thine enemy?Forgive me, cousin! Ah, dear Juliet,Why art thou yet so fair? shall I believeThat unsubstantial death is amorous,And that the lean abhorred monster keepsThee here in dark to be his paramour?For fear of that, I still will stay with thee;And never from this palace of dim nightDepart again: here, here will I remainWith worms that are thy chamber-maids; O, hereWill I set up my everlasting rest,And shake the yoke of inauspicious starsFrom this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last!Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O youThe doors of breath, seal with a righteous kissA dateless bargain to engrossing death!Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide!Thou desperate pilot, now at once run onThe dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark!Here's to my love!

Drinks

ROMEO
O true apothecary!Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die.

Dies

Enter, at the other end of the churchyard, FRIAR LAURENCE, with a lantern, crow, and spade

FRIAR LAURENCE
Saint Francis be my speed! how oft to-nightHave my old feet stumbled at graves! Who's there?
BALTHASAR
Here's one, a friend, and one that knows you well.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend,What torch is yond, that vainly lends his lightTo grubs and eyeless skulls? as I discern,It burneth in the Capel's monument.
BALTHASAR
It doth so, holy sir; and there's my master,One that you love.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Who is it?
BALTHASAR
Romeo.
FRIAR LAURENCE
How long hath he been there?
BALTHASAR
Full half an hour.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Go with me to the vault.
BALTHASAR
I dare not, sirMy master knows not but I am gone hence;And fearfully did menace me with death,If I did stay to look on his intents.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Stay, then; I'll go alone. Fear comes upon me:O, much I fear some ill unlucky thing.
BALTHASAR
As I did sleep under this yew-tree here,I dreamt my master and another fought,And that my master slew him.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Romeo!

Advances

FRIAR LAURENCE
Alack, alack, what blood is this, which stainsThe stony entrance of this sepulchre?What mean these masterless and gory swordsTo lie discolour'd by this place of peace?

Enters the tomb

FRIAR LAURENCE
Romeo! O, pale! Who else? what, Paris too?And steep'd in blood? Ah, what an unkind hourIs guilty of this lamentable chance!The lady stirs.

JULIET wakes

JULIET
O comfortable friar! where is my lord?I do remember well where I should be,And there I am. Where is my Romeo?

Noise within

FRIAR LAURENCE
I hear some noise. Lady, come from that nestOf death, contagion, and unnatural sleep:A greater power than we can contradictHath thwarted our intents. Come, come away.Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead;And Paris too. Come, I'll dispose of theeAmong a sisterhood of holy nuns:Stay not to question, for the watch is coming;Come, go, good Juliet,

Noise again

FRIAR LAURENCE
I dare no longer stay.
JULIET
Go, get thee hence, for I will not away.

Exit FRIAR LAURENCE

JULIET
What's here? a cup, closed in my true love's hand?Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end:O churl! drunk all, and left no friendly dropTo help me after? I will kiss thy lips;Haply some poison yet doth hang on them,To make die with a restorative.

Kisses him

JULIET
Thy lips are warm.
First Watchman
[Within] Lead, boy: which way?
JULIET
Yea, noise? then I'll be brief. O happy dagger!

Snatching ROMEO's dagger

JULIET
This is thy sheath;

Stabs herself

JULIET
there rust, and let me die.

Falls on ROMEO's body, and dies

Enter Watch, with the Page of PARIS

PAGE
This is the place; there, where the torch doth burn.
First Watchman
The ground is bloody; search about the churchyard:Go, some of you, whoe'er you find attach.Pitiful sight! here lies the county slain,And Juliet bleeding, warm, and newly dead,Who here hath lain these two days buried.Go, tell the prince: run to the Capulets:Raise up the Montagues: some others search:We see the ground whereon these woes do lie;But the true ground of all these piteous woesWe cannot without circumstance descry.

Re-enter some of the Watch, with BALTHASAR

Second Watchman
Here's Romeo's man; we found him in the churchyard.
First Watchman
Hold him in safety, till the prince come hither.

Re-enter others of the Watch, with FRIAR LAURENCE

Third Watchman
Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs and weeps:We took this mattock and this spade from him,As he was coming from this churchyard side.
First Watchman
A great suspicion: stay the friar too.

Enter the PRINCE and Attendants

PRINCE
What misadventure is so early up,That calls our person from our morning's rest?

Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and others

CAPULET
What should it be, that they so shriek abroad?
LADY CAPULET
The people in the street cry Romeo,Some Juliet, and some Paris; and all run,With open outcry toward our monument.
PRINCE
What fear is this which startles in our ears?
First Watchman
Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain;And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before,Warm and new kill'd.
PRINCE
Search, seek, and know how this foul murder comes.
First Watchman
Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's man;With instruments upon them, fit to openThese dead men's tombs.
CAPULET
O heavens! O wife, look how our daughter bleeds!This dagger hath mista'en--for, lo, his houseIs empty on the back of Montague,--And it mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom!
LADY CAPULET
O me! this sight of death is as a bell,That warns my old age to a sepulchre.

Enter MONTAGUE and others

PRINCE
Come, Montague; for thou art early up,To see thy son and heir more early down.
MONTAGUE
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.
MONTAGUE
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, theirtrue 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 LAURENCE
I am the greatest, able to do least,Yet most suspected, as the time and placeDoth make against me of this direful murder;And here I stand, both to impeach and purgeMyself condemned and myself excused.
PRINCE
Then say at once what thou dost know in this.
FRIAR LAURENCE
I will be brief, for my short date of breathIs 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-dayWas Tybalt's dooms-day, whose untimely deathBanish'd the new-made bridegroom from the city,For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pined.You, to remove that siege of grief from her,Betroth'd and would have married her perforceTo County Paris: then comes she to me,And, with wild looks, bid me devise some meanTo 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 effectAs I intended, for it wrought on herThe 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 yesternightReturn'd my letter back. Then all aloneAt 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 timeOf her awaking, here untimely layThe 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 marriageHer nurse is privy: and, if aught in thisMiscarried by my fault, let my old lifeBe 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 MantuaTo 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 poisonOf a poor 'pothecary, and therewithalCame 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 tooHave 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 moreCan 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 setAs 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 woeThan this of Juliet and her Romeo.

Exeunt