And it mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom ! 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. Mon. 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. Mon. 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, Fri. L. I am the greatest, able to do least, Prince. Then say at once what thou dost know in this. Fri. L. 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 ; 216. outrage, outcry. 210 220 230 And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife : The form of death: meantime I writ to Romeo, Came I to take her from her kindred's vault; The noble Paris and true Romeo dead. 247. as this dire night, this dire night. ('As' served to define expressions of time, cf. 240 250 260 'as this very day was Cassius born,' Jul. Cæs. v. I. 72; 'as now,' etc.). All this I know; and to the marriage Her nurse is privy: and, if aught in this Prince. We still have known thee for a holy man. Where's Romeo's man? what can he say in this? 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 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: Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet. And I for winking at your discords too Have lost a brace of kinsmen: all are punish'd. 270 280 290 This is my daughter's jointure, for no more Can I demand. Mon. Cap. As rich shall Romeo's by his lady's lie; Prince. A glooming peace this morning with it brings ; The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head : For never was a story of more woe 300 [Exeunt. 310 END OF VOL. VII Printed by R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, Edinburgh. |