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- Farewell.—God knows when we shall meet again. I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veinsThat almost freezes up the heat of life.I’ll call them back again to comfort me.—Balthasar!—What should he do here?My dismal scene I needs must act alone. Come, vial. What if this mixture do not work at all?Shall I be married then tomorrow morning?
- No, no, this shall forbid it. Lie thou there.What if it be a poison which the Friar Subtly hath ministered to have me dead,Lest in this marriage he should be dishonoredBecause he married me before to JulietI fear it is. And yet methinks it should not,For he hath still been tried a holy man.
- Or, if I live, is it not very likeThehorrible conceit of death and night,Together with the terror of the place—As in a vault, an ancient receptacle Where for this many hundred years the bonesOf all my buried ancestors are packed;Where bloody Mercurtio, yet but green in earth,Lies fest’ring in his shroud; where, as they say,At some hours in the night spirits resort—
- How if, when I am laid into the tomb,I wake before the time that Romeo JulietCome 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 Juliet comes?
- Alack, alack, is it not like that I,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, Environèd with all these hideous fears,And madly play with my forefathers’ joints,And pluck the mangled Mercurtio from his shroud,And, in this rage, with some great kinsman’s bone,As with a club, dash out my desp’rate brains?
- Alack, alack, is it not like that I,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, Environèd with all these hideous fears,And madly play with my forefathers’ joints,And pluck the mangled Mercurtio from his shroud,And, in this rage, with some great kinsman’s bone,As with a club, dash out my desp’rate brains? O look, methinks I see my friends ghostSeeking out Juliet that did spit his bodyUpon a rapier’s point! Stay, Mercurtio, stay!Juliet Juliet ,Juliet! Here’s the drink. I drink to thee.
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