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A street, but a different street than we have seen before. This street is in Mantua. There are several buildings in the background. |
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Romeo |
If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep, |
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My dreams presage some joyful news at hand: |
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My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne; |
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And all this day an unaccustom'd spirit |
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Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts. |
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I dreamt my lady came and found me dead-- |
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Strange dream, that gives a dead man leave |
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And breathed such life with kisses in my lips, |
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That I revived, and was an emperor. |
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Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess'd, |
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When but love's shadows are so rich in joy! |
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News from Verona!--How now, Balthasar! |
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Dost thou not bring me letters from the friar? |
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How doth my lady? Is my father well? |
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How fares my Juliet? that I ask again; |
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For nothing can be ill, if she be well. |
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Balthasar |
Then she is well, and nothing can be ill: |
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Her body sleeps in Capel's monument, |
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And her immortal part with angels lives. |
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I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault, |
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And presently took post to tell it you: |
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O, pardon me for bringing these ill news, |
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Since you did leave it for my office, sir. |
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Romeo |
Is it even so? then I defy you, stars! |
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Thou know'st my lodging: get me ink and paper, |
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And hire post-horses; I will hence to-night. |
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Balthasar |
I do beseech you, sir, have patience: |
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Your looks are pale and wild, and do import |
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Romeo |
Tush, thou art deceived: |
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Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do. |
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Hast thou no letters to me from the friar? |
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Balthasar |
No, my good lord. |
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Romeo |
No matter: get thee gone, |
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And hire those horses; I'll be with thee straight. |
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Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night. |
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Let's see for means: O mischief, thou art swift |
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To enter in the thoughts of desperate men! |
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I do remember an apothecary,-- |
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And hereabouts he dwells,--which late I noted |
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In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows, |
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Culling of simples; meagre were his looks, |
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Sharp misery had worn him to the bones: |
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And in his needy shop a tortoise hung, |
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An alligator stuff'd, and other skins |
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Of ill-shaped fishes; and about his shelves |
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A beggarly account of empty boxes, |
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Green earthen pots, bladders and musty seeds, |
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Remnants of packthread and old cakes of roses, |
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Were thinly scatter'd, to make up a show. |
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Noting this penury, to myself I said |
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'An if a man did need a poison now, |
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Whose sale is present death in Mantua, |
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Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.' |
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O, this same thought did but forerun my need; |
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And this same needy man must sell it me. |
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As I remember, this should be the house. |
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Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut. |
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Apothecary |
Who calls so loud? |
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Romeo |
Come hither, man. I see that thou art poor: |
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Hold, there is forty ducats: let me have |
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A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear |
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As will disperse itself through all the veins |
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That the life-weary taker may fall dead |
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And that the trunk may be discharged of breath |
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As violently as hasty powder fired |
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Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb. |
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Apothecary |
Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's law |
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Is death to any he that utters them. |
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Romeo |
Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness, |
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And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks, |
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Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes, |
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Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back; |
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The world is not thy friend nor the world's law; |
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The world affords no law to make thee rich; |
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Then be not poor, but break it, and take this. |
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Apothecary |
My poverty, but not my will, consents. |
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Romeo |
I pay thy poverty, and not thy will. |
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Apothecary |
Put this in any liquid thing you will, |
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And drink it off; and, if you had the strength |
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Of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight. |
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Romeo |
There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls, |
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Doing more murders in this loathsome world, |
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Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell. |
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I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none. |
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Farewell: buy food, and get thyself in flesh. |
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Come, cordial and not poison, go with me |
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To Juliet's grave; for there must I use thee. |
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