hurry from the fatal cannon’s womb.Apothecary.
Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua’s law
Is death to any he that utters them.
Romeo.
Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness
And fear’st to die? famine is in thy cheeks,
Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes,
Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back,
The world is not thy friend, nor the world’s law:
The world affords no law to make thee rich;
Then be not poor, but break it and take this.
Apothecary.
My poverty, but not my will consents.
Romeo.
I pay thy poverty, and not thy will.
Apothecary.
Put this in any liquid thing you will,
And drink it off; and, if you had the strength
Of twenty men, it would despatch you straight.
Romeo.
There is thy gold; worse poison to men’s souls,
Doing more murders in this loathsome world
Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell:
I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none.
Farewell: buy food and get thyself in flesh.—
Come, cordial and not poison, go with me
To Juliet’s grave; for there must I use thee.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE II. Friar Lawrence’s Cell.
[Enter Friar John.]
Friar John.
Holy Franciscan friar! brother, ho!
[Enter Friar Lawrence.]
Friar Lawrence.
This same should be the voice of Friar John.
Welcome from Mantua: what says Romeo?
Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter.
Friar John.
Going to find a barefoot brother out,
One of our order, to associate me,
Here in this city visiting the sick,
And finding him, the searchers of the town,
Suspecting that we both were in a house
Where the infectious pestilence did reign,
Seal’d up the doors, and would not let us forth;
So that my speed to Mantua there was stay’d.
Friar Lawrence.
Who bare my letter, then, to Romeo?
Friar John.
I could not send it,—here it is again,—
Nor get a messenger to bring it thee,
So fearful were they of infection.
Friar Lawrence.
Unhappy fortune! by my brotherhood,
The letter was not nice, but full of charge
Of dear import; and the neglecting it
May do much danger. Friar John, go hence;
Get me an iron crow and bring it straight
Unto my cell.
Friar John.
Brother, I’ll go and bring it thee.
[Exit.]
Friar Lawrence.
Now must I to the monument alone;
Within this three hours will fair Juliet wake:
She will beshrew me much that Romeo
Hath had no notice of these accidents;
But I will write again to Mantua,
And keep her at my cell till Romeo come;—
Poor living corse, clos’d in a dead man’s tomb!
[Exit.]
SCENE III. A churchyard; in it a Monument belonging to the Capulets.
[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 tree 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 alone
Here 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 keep,
Nightly shall be to strew thy grave and weep.
[The Page whistles.]
The boy gives warning something doth approach.
