Poison, I see, hath been his [timeless] end.—
O churl! [drunk all, and left] 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.
1 Watch. [Within] Lead, boy; which way?
Juliet. Yea, noise? then I'll be brief.—O happy dagger! [Snatching Romeo's dagger.
This is thy sheath [Stabs herself]; [there rest], and let me die.
[Falls on Romeo's body, and dies.