Rom: What dost thou tempt me, then haue at thee boy.
They fight.
Boy: O Lord they fight, I will goe call the watch.
Par: Ah I am slaine, if thou be mercifull 55
Open the tombe, lay me with Iuliet.
Rom: Yfaith I will, let me peruse this face,
Mercutios kinsman, noble County Paris?
What said my man, when my betossed soule
Did not regard him as we past a long.
Did he not say Paris should have maried
Iuliet? eyther he said so, or I dreamd it so.
But I will satisfie thy last request,
For thou hast prizd thy loue aboue thy life.
Death lye thou there, by a dead man interd, 65
How oft have many at the houre of death
Beene blith and pleasant? which their keepers call
A lightning before death But how may I
Call this a lightning. Ah deare Iuliet,
How well thy beauty doth become this graue? 70
O I beleeue that vnsubstanciall death,
Is amorous, and doth court my loue.
Therefore will I, O heere, O euer heere,
Set vp my euerlasting rest
With wormes, that are thy chamber mayds. 75
Come desperate Pilot now at once runne on
The dashing rockes thy sea-sicke weary barge.
Heers to my loue. O true Apothecary:
Thy drugs are swift: thus with a kisse I dye. Falls.
Enter Fryer with a Lanthorne.
How oft to night haue these my aged feete 80
Stumbled at graues as I did passe along.
Whose there?
Man. A frend and one that knowes you well.
Fr: Who is it that consorts so late the dead,
What light is yon? if I be not deceiued, 85
Me thinkes it burnes in Capels monument?
Man. It doth so holy Sir, and there is one
That loues you dearly.