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The Same. JULIET’S Chamber. | |
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Enter JULIET and Nurse. | |
| Jul. Ay, those attires are best; but, gentle nurse, | |
| I pray thee, leave me to myself to-night; | |
| For I have need of many orisons | 5 |
| To move the heavens to smile upon my state, | |
| Which, well thou know’st, is cross and full of sin. | |
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Enter LADY CAPULET. | |
| Lady Cap. What! are you busy, ho? need you my help? | |
| Jul. No, madam; we have cull’d such necessaries | 10 |
| As are behoveful for our state to-morrow: | |
| So please you, let me now be left alone, | |
| And let the nurse this night sit up with you; | |
| For, I am sure, you have your hands full all | |
| In this so sudden business. | 15 |
| Lady Cap. Good-night: | |
| Get thee to bed, and rest; for thou hast need. [Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse. | |
| Jul. Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again. | |
| I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins, | |
| That almost freezes up the heat of life: | 20 |
| I’ll call them back again to comfort me: | |
| Nurse! What should she do here? | |
| My dismal scene I needs must act alone. | |
| Come, vial. | |
| What if this mixture do not work at all? | 25 |
| Shall I be married then to-morrow morning? | |
| No, no; this shall forbid it: lie thou there. [Laying down a dagger. | |
| What if it be a poison, which the friar | |
| Subtly hath minister’d to have me dead, | |
| Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour’d | 30 |
| Because he married me before to Romeo? | |
| I fear it is: and yet, methinks, it should not, | |
| For he hath still been tried a holy man. | |
| I will not entertain so bad a thought. | |
| How if, when I am laid into the tomb, | 35 |
| I wake before the time that Romeo | |
| Come to redeem me? there’s a fearful point! | |
| Shall I not then be stifled in the vault, | |
| To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in, | |
| And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes? | 40 |
| Or, if I live, is it not very like, | |
| The horrible conceit of death and night, | |
| Together with the terror of the place, | |
| As in a vault, an ancient receptacle, | |
| Where, for these many hundred years, the bones | 45 |
| Of all my buried ancestors are pack’d; | |
| Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth, | |
| Lies festering in his shroud; where, as they say, | |
| At some hours in the night spirits resort: | |
| Alack, alack! is it not like that I, | 50 |
| So early waking, what with loathsome smells, | |
| And shrieks like mandrakes’ torn out of the earth, | |
| That living mortals, hearing them, run mad: | |
| O! if I wake, shall I not be distraught, | |
| Environed with all these hideous fears, | 55 |
| And madly play with my forefathers’ joints, | |
| And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud? | |
| And, in this rage, with some great kinsman’s bone, | |
| As with a club, dash out my desperate brains? | |
| O, look! methinks I see my cousin’s ghost | 60 |
| Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body | |
| Upon a rapier’s point. Stay, Tybalt, stay! | |
| Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee. [She falls upon her bed within the curtains. | |
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