SCENE III. A churchyard; in it a tomb belonging to the Capulets. Romeo and Juliet  Shakespeare homepage  |  Romeo and Juliet  | Act 5, Scene 3 

 Previous scene  SCENE III. A churchyard; in it a tomb 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-trees 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. 

 What cursed foot wanders this way to-night, 

 To cross my obsequies and true love's rite? 

 What with a torch! muffle me, night, awhile. 



 Retires 

 Enter ROMEO and BALTHASAR, with a torch, mattock,  & c  ROMEO  Give me that mattock and the wrenching iron. 

 Hold, take this letter; early in the morning 

 See thou deliver it to my lord and father. 

 Give me the light: upon thy life, I charge thee, 

 Whate'er thou hear'st or seest, stand all aloof, 

 And do not interrupt me in my course. 

 Why I descend into this bed of death, 

 Is partly to behold my lady's face; 

 But chiefly to take thence from her dead finger 

 A precious ring, a ring that I must use 

 In dear employment: therefore hence, be gone: 

 But if thou, jealous, dost return to pry 

 In what I further shall intend to do, 

 By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint 

 And strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs: 

 The time and my intents are savage-wild, 

 More fierce and more inexorable far 

 Than empty tigers or the roaring sea. 

 BALTHASAR  I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you. 

 ROMEO  So shalt thou show me friendship. Take thou that: 

 Live, and be prosperous: and farewell, good fellow. 

 BALTHASAR  [Aside]  For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout: 

 His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt. 



 Retires  ROMEO  Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death, 

 Gorged with the dearest morsel of the earth, 

 Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open, 

 And, in despite, I'll cram thee with more food! 



 Opens the tomb  PARIS  This is that banish'd haughty Montague, 

 That murder'd my love's cousin, with which grief, 

 It is supposed, the fair creature died; 

 And here is come to do some villanous shame 

 To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him. 



 Comes forward  Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague! 

 Can vengeance be pursued further than death? 

 Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee: 

 Obey, and go with me; for thou must die. 

 ROMEO  I must indeed; and therefore came I hither. 

 Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man; 

 Fly hence, and leave me: think upon these gone; 

 Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, youth, 

 Put not another sin upon my head, 

 By urging me to fury: O, be gone! 

 By heaven, I love thee better than myself; 

 For I come hither arm'd against myself: 

 Stay not, be gone; live, and hereafter say, 

 A madman's mercy bade thee run away. 

 PARIS  I do defy thy conjurations, 

 And apprehend thee for a felon here. 

 ROMEO  Wilt thou provoke me? then have at thee, boy! 



 They fight  PAGE  O Lord, they fight! I will go call the watch. 



 Exit  PARIS  O, I am slain! 



 Falls  If thou be merciful, 

 Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet. 



 Dies  ROMEO  In faith, I will. Let me peruse this face. 

 Mercutio's kinsman, noble County Paris! 

 What said my man, when my betossed soul 

 Did not attend him as we rode? I think 

 He told me Paris should have married Juliet: 

 Said he not so? or did I dream it so? 

 Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet, 

 To think it was so? O, give me thy hand, 

 One writ with me in sour misfortune's book! 

 I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave; 

 A grave? O no! a lantern, slaughter'd youth, 

 For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes 

 This vault a feasting presence full of light. 

 Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr'd. 



 Laying PARIS in the tomb  How oft when men are at the point of death 

 Have they been merry! which their keepers call 

 A lightning before death: O, how may I 

 Call this a lightning? O my love! my wife! 

 Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath, 

 Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty: 

 Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet 

 Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks, 

 And death's pale flag is not advanced there. 

 Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet? 

 O, what more favour can I do to thee, 

 Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain 

 To sunder his that was thine enemy? 

 Forgive me, cousin! Ah, dear Juliet, 

 Why art thou yet so fair? shall I believe 

 That unsubstantial death is amorous, 

 And that the lean abhorred monster keeps 

 Thee here in dark to be his paramour? 

 For fear of that, I still will stay with thee; 

 And never from this palace of dim night 

 Depart again: here, here will I remain 

 With worms that are thy chamber-maids; O, 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 of breath, seal with a righteous kiss 

 A dateless bargain to engrossing death! 

 Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide! 

 Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on 

 The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark! 

 Here's to my love! 



 Drinks  O true apothecary! 

 Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die. 



 Dies 

 Enter, at the other end of the churchyard, FRIAR LAURENCE, with a lantern, crow, and spade  FRIAR LAURENCE  Saint Francis be my speed! how oft to-night 

 Have my old feet stumbled at graves! Who's there? 

 BALTHASAR  Here's one, a friend, and one that knows you well. 

 FRIAR LAURENCE  Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend, 

 What torch is yond, that vainly lends his light 

 To grubs and eyeless skulls? as I discern, 

 It burneth in the Capel's monument. 

 BALTHASAR  It doth so, holy sir; and there's my master, 

 One that you love. 

 FRIAR LAURENCE  Who is it? 

 BALTHASAR  Romeo. 

 FRIAR LAURENCE  How long hath he been there? 

 BALTHASAR  Full half an hour. 

 FRIAR LAURENCE  Go with me to the vault. 

 BALTHASAR  I dare not, sir 

 My master knows not but I am gone hence; 

 And fearfully did menace me with death, 

 If I did stay to look on his intents. 

 FRIAR LAURENCE  Stay, then; I'll go alone. Fear comes upon me: 

 O, much I fear some ill unlucky thing. 

 BALTHASAR  As I did sleep under this yew-tree here, 

 I dreamt my master and another fought, 

 And that my master slew him. 

 FRIAR LAURENCE  Romeo! 



 Advances  Alack, alack, what blood is this, which stains 

 The stony entrance of this sepulchre? 

 What mean these masterless and gory swords 

 To lie discolour'd by this place of peace? 



 Enters the tomb  Romeo! O, pale! Who else? what, Paris too? 

 And steep'd in blood? Ah, what an unkind hour 

 Is guilty of this lamentable chance! 

 The lady stirs. 



 JULIET wakes  JULIET  O comfortable friar! where is my lord? 

 I do remember well where I should be, 

 And there I am. Where is my Romeo? 



 Noise within  FRIAR LAURENCE  I hear some noise. Lady, come from that nest 

 Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep: 

 A greater power than we can contradict 

 Hath thwarted our intents. Come, come away. 

 Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead; 

 And Paris too. Come, I'll dispose of thee 

 Among a sisterhood of holy nuns: 

 Stay not to question, for the watch is coming; 

 Come, go, good Juliet, 



 Noise again  I dare no longer stay. 

 JULIET  Go, get thee hence, for I will not away. 



 Exit FRIAR LAURENCE  What's here? a cup, closed in my true love's hand? 

 Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end: 

 O churl! drunk all, and left no friendly drop 

 To help me after? I will kiss thy lips; 

 Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, 

 To make die with a restorative. 



 Kisses him  Thy lips are warm. 

 First Watchman  [Within]  Lead, boy: which way? 

 JULIET  Yea, noise? then I'll be brief. O happy dagger! 



 Snatching ROMEO's dagger  This is thy sheath; 



 Stabs herself  there rust, and let me die. 



 Falls on ROMEO's body, and dies 

 Enter Watch, with the Page of PARIS  PAGE  This is the place; there, where the torch doth burn. 

 First Watchman  The ground is bloody; search about the churchyard: 

 Go, some of you, whoe'er you find attach. 

 Pitiful sight! here lies the county slain, 

 And Juliet bleeding, warm, and newly dead, 

 Who here hath lain these two days buried. 

 Go, tell the prince: run to the Capulets: 

 Raise up the Montagues: some others search: 

 We see the ground whereon these woes do lie; 

 But the true ground of all these piteous woes 

 We cannot without circumstance descry. 



 Re-enter some of the Watch, with BALTHASAR  Second Watchman  Here's Romeo's man; we found him in the churchyard. 

 First Watchman  Hold him in safety, till the prince come hither. 



 Re-enter others of the Watch, with FRIAR LAURENCE  Third Watchman  Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs and weeps: 

 We took this mattock and this spade from him, 

 As he was coming from this churchyard side. 

 First Watchman  A great suspicion: stay the friar too. 



 Enter the PRINCE and Attendants  PRINCE  What misadventure is so early up, 

 That calls our person from our morning's rest? 



 Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and others  CAPULET  What should it be, that they so shriek abroad? 

 LADY CAPULET  The people in the street cry Romeo, 

 Some Juliet, and some Paris; and all run, 

 With open outcry toward our monument. 

 PRINCE  What fear is this which startles in our ears? 

 First Watchman  Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain; 

 And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before, 

 Warm and new kill'd. 

 PRINCE  Search, seek, and know how this foul murder comes. 

 First Watchman  Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's man; 

 With instruments upon them, fit to open 

 These dead men's tombs. 

 CAPULET  O heavens! O wife, look how our daughter bleeds! 

 This dagger hath mista'en--for, lo, his house 

 Is empty on the back of Montague,-- 

 And it mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom! 

 LADY CAPULET  O me! this sight of death is as a bell, 

 That warns my old age to a sepulchre. 



 Enter MONTAGUE and others  PRINCE  Come, Montague; for thou art early up, 

 To see thy son and heir more early down. 

 MONTAGUE  Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night; 

 Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath: 

 What further woe conspires against mine age? 

 PRINCE  Look, and thou shalt see. 

 MONTAGUE  O thou untaught! what manners is in this? 

 To press before thy father to a grave? 

 PRINCE  Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while, 

 Till we can clear these ambiguities, 

 And know their spring, their head, their 

 true descent; 

 And then will I be general of your woes, 

 And lead you even to death: meantime forbear, 

 And let mischance be slave to patience. 

 Bring forth the parties of suspicion. 

 FRIAR LAURENCE  I am the greatest, able to do least, 

 Yet most suspected, as the time and place 

 Doth make against me of this direful murder; 

 And here I stand, both to impeach and purge 

 Myself condemned and myself excused. 

 PRINCE  Then say at once what thou dost know in this. 

 FRIAR LAURENCE  I will be brief, for my short date of breath 

 Is not so long as is a tedious tale. 

 Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet; 

 And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife: 

 I married them; and their stol'n marriage-day 

 Was Tybalt's dooms-day, whose untimely death 

 Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from the city, 

 For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pined. 

 You, to remove that siege of grief from her, 

 Betroth'd and would have married her perforce 

 To County Paris: then comes she to me, 

 And, with wild looks, bid me devise some mean 

 To rid her from this second marriage, 

 Or in my cell there would she kill herself. 

 Then gave I her, so tutor'd by my art, 

 A sleeping potion; which so took effect 

 As I intended, for it wrought on her 

 The form of death: meantime I writ to Romeo, 

 That he should hither come as this dire night, 

 To help to take her from her borrow'd grave, 

 Being the time the potion's force should cease. 

 But he which bore my letter, Friar John, 

 Was stay'd by accident, and yesternight 

 Return'd my letter back. Then all alone 

 At the prefixed hour of her waking, 

 Came I to take her from her kindred's vault; 

 Meaning to keep her closely at my cell, 

 Till I conveniently could send to Romeo: 

 But when I came, some minute ere the time 

 Of her awaking, here untimely lay 

 The noble Paris and true Romeo dead. 

 She wakes; and I entreated her come forth, 

 And bear this work of heaven with patience: 

 But then a noise did scare me from the tomb; 

 And she, too desperate, would not go with me, 

 But, as it seems, did violence on herself. 

 All this I know; and to the marriage 

 Her nurse is privy: and, if aught in this 

 Miscarried by my fault, let my old life 

 Be sacrificed, some hour before his time, 

 Unto the rigour of severest law. 

 PRINCE  We still have known thee for a holy man. 

 Where's Romeo's man? what can he say in this? 

 BALTHASAR  I brought my master news of Juliet's death; 

 And then in post he came from Mantua 

 To this same place, to this same monument. 

 This letter he early bid me give his father, 

 And threatened me with death, going in the vault, 

 I departed not and left him there. 

 PRINCE  Give me the letter; I will look on it. 

 Where is the county's page, that raised the watch? 

 Sirrah, what made your master in this place? 

 PAGE  He came with flowers to strew his lady's grave; 

 And bid me stand aloof, and so I did: 

 Anon comes one with light to ope the tomb; 

 And by and by my master drew on him; 

 And then I ran away to call the watch. 

 PRINCE  This letter doth make good the friar's words, 

 Their course of love, the tidings of her death: 

 And here he writes that he did buy a poison 

 Of a poor 'pothecary, and therewithal 

 Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet. 

 Where be these enemies? Capulet! Montague! 

 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 kinsmen: all are punish'd. 

 CAPULET  O brother Montague, give me thy hand: 

 This is my daughter's jointure, for no more 

 Can I demand. 

 MONTAGUE  But I can give thee more: 

 For I will raise her statue in pure gold; 

 That while Verona by that name is known, 

 There shall no figure at such rate be set 

 As that of true and faithful Juliet. 

 CAPULET  As rich shall Romeo's by his lady's lie; 

 Poor sacrifices of our enmity! 

 PRINCE  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 pardon'd, and some punished: 

 For never was a story of more woe 

 Than this of Juliet and her Romeo. 



 Exeunt 