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. And never from this Palace of dim night
[Drinks the poifon. Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die. [Dies.
6 And never from this Palace speak of its instant force and efof dim night
fects. Besides, Shakespeare would Depart again. (Come lie thou hardly have made Romeo driik to io my Arms:
the bealth of his dead Mistress. Here's to thy Health. O true Though the first quarto in 1599, Apothecary !
and the two old folios acknowo Thy drugs are quick) ) Mr. ledge this absurd stuff
, I find it Pope's, and some other of the left out in several later quanto imworfer editions acknowledge ab- pressions. I ought to take notice, surdly the lines which I have put that tho' Mr. Pope has thought into parenthesis here ; and which fit to stick to the old copies in this I have expung'd from the text, addition, yet he is no fair tranfor this reason : Romeo is made scriber; for he has sunk upon us to confess the effect of the poison an hemiftich of mott profound before ever he has tafted it. I absurdity, which possesses all those fuppose, it hardly was so favoury copies, that the patient should chuse to -Come, lie thou in my Homs ; make two draughts of it. And, Here's to thy Health, where. eight lines after these, we find e'er thou tumblert in. him taking the poison in his O true Apothecary! &c. hands, and making an apostrophe
THEOBALD: to it; inviting it to perform its I have no edition but the folio, office at once; and then, and not which has all the passage here 'till then, does he clap it to his mentioned, I have followed lips, or can with any probability Mr. Theobald.
Enter Friar Lawrence with lantborn, crows and spade.
Fri. St. Francis be my speed! How oft to-night Have
my old feet stumbled at graves ? - Who's there?
Balth. It doth so, holy Sir,--and there's my master,
Fri, Who is it?
Baltb. I dare not, Sir.
Fri. Stay then, I'll go alone. Fear comes upon me;
Balth. As I did. Neep under this yew tree here,
Fri. Romeo !
Is guilty of this lamentable chance ?
Jul. [awaking. ] Oh comfortable Friar; where is
my Lord ?
I do remember well, where I should be;
Fri. I hear fome noise! Lady, come from that nest
Jul. Go, get thee hence, for I will not away. What’s here? a cup, clos’d in my true love's hand ? Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end. Ochurl, drink all, and leave no friendly drop To help me after ? I will kiss thy lips, Haply, some poison yet doth hang on them ; To make me die with a Restorative. Thy lips are warm.
Enter Boy and Watch.
Jul. Yea, noise ?
[Finding a dagger. This is thy sheath, there rust and let me die.
(Kills herself. Boy. This is the place; there, where the torch doch
burn. Watch. The ground is bloody. Search about the
church-yard; Go, some of you, whom e'er you find, attach.
Pitiful sight! here lies the County lain,
Enter some of the Watch, with Balthasar. 2 Watch. Here's Romeo's man, «we found him in the church-yard.
1 Watch, Hold him in safety, 'till the Prince comes hither.
Enter another Watchman with Friar Lawrence. 3 Watch. Here is a Friar that trembles, sighs and
weeps. We took this mattock and this spade from him, As he was coming from this church-yard side.'
i Watch. A great suspicion. Stay the Friar too.
Enter the Prince, and attendants. Prince. What misadventure is so early up, That calls our perfon from our morning's Rest?
7 Raise up the Montagues,
some others; fearch] Here seems to be a shyme intended, which may be easily restored ;
Reise up the Montagues. Some
We see the ground wbercer
these woes do lie,
Enter Capulet and lady Capulet.
La. Cap. The people in the street cry, Romeo ?
Prince: What fear is this, which startles in your
Watch. Sovereign, here lies the County Paris Nain, And Romeo dead, and Juliet, dead before, Warm and new kill'd. Prince. Search, seek, and know, how this foul mur
der comes. Watch. Here is a Friar, and Naughter'd Romeo's
La. Cap. Oh me, this fight of death is as a bell, That warns my old age to a sepulchre,
Enter Montague. Prince. Come, Montague, for thou art early up, To see thy son and heir now early down.
Mon. Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night ; Grief of my son's exile hach stopt her breath. What further woe conspires against my age ?
Prince. Look, and thou shalt see.
& What frar is ibis, which
partles in your cars] Read, What fear is this, which fartles
in our ears?
lo! the feath