Romeo + Juliet Page #7

Apothecary:

Such mortal drugs I have, but Verona's law is death to any that utters them.

Romeo:

The world is not thy friend, nor the worlds law. 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:

Drink it off and, and if you had the strength of twenty men it would dispatch you straight.

Romeo:

Here is my gold. Worse poison to men's souls, than these poor compounds that thou mayest not sell.

Father Lawrence:

Romeo had no notice of these accidents. I will write again to Mantua. Within the hour will Juliet wake. She stirs the lady stirs.

Romeo:

I beseech you. Live and be prosperous; and farewell good fellow.

Balthasar:

Then I'll leave thee.

Romeo:

Tempt not a desperate man!

Prince:

Hold! Hold! Hold! What more--Hold! Hold!

Romeo:

My love, my wife, Death that hath sucked the honey of thy breath, hath no power yet upon thy beauty, thou art not conquered. Beauty's ensign yet is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks, and death's pale flag is not advanc-ed there. Ah, dear Juliet, why art thou yet so fair? Shall I believe that unsubstantial death is amorous and keeps thee here in the dark to be his paramore? For fear of that I still will stay thee. Here, oh, here will I set up my everlasting rest, and shake the yoke of inauspicious stars from this world-wearied flesh. Eyes look your last, arms take your last embrace, and lips, O you the doors to breath, seal with a righteous kiss. A dateless bargain, to engrossing death.

Juliet:

Romeo. What's here? Poison. Drunk all, and left no friendly drop to help me after. I will kiss thy lips. Happily some poison yet doth hang on them. Thy lips are warm.

Romeo:

Thus...with a kiss...I die.

Prince:

See what a scourge is laid upon your hate, that heaven finds means to kill your joys with love. And I, for winking at your discords too, have lost a brace of kinsman. All are Punish-ed. ALL ARE PUNISH-ED!

Anchor Woman:

A glooming peace this morning with it brings, the sun, for sorrow will not show his head. Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things. Some shall be pardoned and some punish-ed. For never was a story of more woe, than this of Juliet and her Romeo.

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