Exit Paris.
Iu: Goe shut the doore and when thou hast done so,
Come weepe with me that am past cure, past help, 45
Fr: Ah Iuliet I already know thy griefe,
I heare thou must and nothing may proroge it,
On Thursday next be married to the Countie.
Iul: Tell me not Frier that thou hearst of it,
Vnlesse thou tell me how we may preuent it. 50
Giue me some sudden counsell: els behold
Twixt my extreames and me, this bloodie Knife
Shall play the Vmpeere, arbitrating that
Which the Commission of thy yeares and arte
Could to no issue of true honour bring. 55
Speake not, be briefe: for I desire to die,
If what thou speakst, speake not of remedie.
Fr: Stay Juliet, I doo spie a kinde of hope,
Which craues as desperate an execution,
As that is desperate we would preuent.
If rather than to marrie Countie Paris
Thou hast the strength or will to slay thy selfe,
Tis not vnlike that thou wilt vndertake
A thing like death to chyde away this shame,
Thou coapst with death it selfe to flye from blame. 65
And if thou doost, Ile giue thee remedie.
Jul: Oh bid me leape (rather than marrie Paris)
From off the battlements of yonder tower:
Or chaine me to some steepie mountaines top,
Where roaring Beares and sauage Lions are: 70
Or shut me nightly in a Charnell-house,
With reekie shankes, and yeolow chaples sculls:
Or lay me in tombe with one new dead:
Things that to heare them namde haue made me tremble;
And I will doo it without feare or doubt, 75
To keep my selfe a faithfull vnstaind Wife
To my deere Lord, my deerest Romeo.
Fr: Hold Iuliet, hie thee home, get thee to bed,
Let not thy Nurse lye with thee in thy Chamber:
And when thou art alone, take thou this Violl, 80
And this distilled Liquor drinke thou off:
When presently through all thy veynes shall run
A dull and heauie slumber, which shall seaze
Each vitall spirit: for no Pulse shall keepe
His naturall progresse, but surcease to beate: 85
No signe of breath shall testifie thou liust.
And in this borrowed likenes of shrunke death,
Thou shall remaine full two and fortie houres.
And when thou art laid in thy Kindreds Vault,
Ile send in hast to Mantua to thy Lord, 90
And he shall come and take thee from thy graue.
Iul: Frier I goe, be sure thou send for my deare Romeo.
Exeunt.