_Rom_: I must indeed, and therefore came I hither, 45 Good youth be gone, tempt not a desperate man. Heape not another sinne vpon my head By sheding of thy bloud, I doe protest I loue thee better then I loue my selfe: For I come hyther armde against my selfe, 50 _Par_: I doe defie thy coniurations: And doe attach thee as a fellon heere. _Rom_: What dost thou tempt me, then haue at thee boy. _They fight._ _Boy_: O Lord they fight, I will goe call the watch. _Par_: Ah I am slaine, if thou be mercifull 55 Open the tombe, lay me with _Iuliet_. _Rom_: Yfaith I will, let me peruse this face, _Mercutios_ kinsman, noble County _Paris_? What said my man, when my betossed soule Did not regard him as we past a long. Did he not say _Paris_ should have maried _Iuliet_? eyther he said so, or I dreamd it so. But I will satisfie thy last request, For thou hast prizd thy loue aboue thy life. Death lye thou there, by a dead man interd, 65 How oft have many at the houre of death Beene blith and pleasant? which their keepers call A lightning before death But how may I Call this a lightning. Ah deare _Iuliet_, How well thy beauty doth become this graue? 70 O I beleeue that vnsubstanciall death, Is amorous, and doth court my loue. Therefore will I, O heere, O euer heere, Set vp my euerlasting rest With wormes, that are thy chamber mayds. 75 Come desperate Pilot now at once runne on The dashing rockes thy sea-sicke weary barge. Heers to my loue. O true Apothecary: Thy drugs are swift: thus with a kisse I dye. _Falls._ _Enter Fryer with a Lanthorne._ How oft to night haue these my aged feete 80 Stumbled at graues as I did passe along. Whose there? _Man._ A frend and one that knowes you well. _Fr_: Who is it that consorts so late the dead, What light is yon? if I be not deceiued, 85 Me thinkes it burnes in _Capels_ monument? _Man._ It doth so holy Sir, and there is one That loues you dearly. _Fr._ Who is it? _Man: Romeo._ 90 _Fr_: How long hath he beene there? _Man_: Full halfe an houre and more. _Fr_: Goe with me thether. _Man_: I dare not sir, he knowes not I am heere: On paine of death he chargde me to be gone, 95 And not for to disturbe him in his enterprize. _Fr_: Then must I goe: my minde presageth ill. _Fryer stoops and lookes on the blood and weapons._