Fr. Who is it?
Man: Romeo. 90
Fr: How long hath he beene there?
Man: Full halfe an houre and more.
Fr: Goe with me thether.
Man: I dare not sir, he knowes not I am heere:
On paine of death he chargde me to be gone, 95
And not for to disturbe him in his enterprize.
Fr: Then must I goe: my minde presageth ill.
Fryer stoops and lookes on the blood and weapons.
What bloud is this that staines the entrance
Of this marble stony monument?
What meanes these maisterles and goory weapons?
Ah me I doubt, whose heere? what Romeo dead?
Who and Paris too? what vnluckie houre
Is accessary to so foule a sinne?
Iuliet rises.