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THE NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY

ASTOR, LENOX AND TILDEN FOUNDATIONS

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A beggarly account of empty boxes,
Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds,
Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses,
Were thinly scatter'd, to make up a show.
Noting this penury, to myself I said,
An if a man' did need a poison now,
Whose sale is present death in Mantua,
Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.
O, this same thought did but fore-run my need;
And this same needy man must sell it me.
As I remember, this should be the house:
Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut.-
What, ho! apothecary!

Enter Apothecary.
Ap.

Who calls so loud?
Rom. Come hither, man.— I see, that thou art

poor;
Hold, there is forty ducats: let me have
A dram of poison; such soon-speeding geer
As will disperse itself through all the veins,
That the life-weary taker may fall dead;
And that the trunk may be discharg'd of breath
As violently, as hasty powder fir’d
Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb.

Ap. Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's law Is death, to any he that utters them.

Rom. Art thou so bare, and full of wretchedness, And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks, Need and oppression starveth in thy eyes, Upon thy back hangs ragged misery, The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law: The world affords no law to make thee rich; Then be not poor, but break it, and take this.

' An if a man, &c.] This phraseology which means simplyIf, was not unfrequent in Shakspeare's time and before.

Ap. My poverty, but not my will, consents.
Rom. I pay thy poverty, and not thy will.

Ap. Put this in any liquid thing you will,
And drink it off; and, if you had the strength
Of twenty men, it would despatch you straight.
Rom. There is thy gold; worse poison to men's

souls, Doing more murders in this loathsome world, Than these poor compounds that thou may’st not sell: I sell thee poison, thou hast sold me none. Farewell; buy food, and get thyself in flesh.Come, cordial, and not poison; go with

with me To Juliet's grave, for there must I use thee.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Friar Laurence's Cell.

Enter Friar John.
John. Holy Franciscan friar! brother, ho!

Enter Friar LAURENCE.
Lau. This same should be the voice of friar John.
Welcome from Mantua: What says Romeo?
Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter.

John. Going to find a bare-foot brother out,
One of our order, to associate me,
Here in this city visiting the sick,
And finding him, the searchers of the town,
Suspecting, that we both were in a house
Where the infectious pestilence did reign,
Seal’d up the doors, and would not let us forth;

2

? One of our order, to associate me,] Each friar has always a companion assigned him by the superior when he asks leave to go out; and thus they are a check upon each other.

So that my speed to Mantua there was stay'd.

Lau. Who bare my letter then to Romeo?

John. I could not send it,-here it is again,-
Nor get a messenger to bring it thee,
So fearful were they of infection.

Lau. Unhappy fortune! by my brotherhood,
The letter was not nice, but full of charge,
Of dear import; and the neglecting it
May do much danger: Friar John, go hence;
Get me an iron crow, and bring it straight
Unto my cell.

John. Brother, I'll go and bring't thee. [Exit.

Lau. Now must I to the monument alone;
Within this three hours will fair Juliet wake;
She will beshrew me inuch, that Romeo
Hath had no notice of these accidents:
But I will write again to Mantua,
And keep her at my cell till Romeo come;
Poor living corse, clos'd in a dead man's tomb!

[Exit.

SCENE III.

A Church-Yard; in it, a Monument belonging to the

Capulets.

Enter Paris, and his Page, bearing Flowers and a

Torch.
Par. Give me thy torch, boy: Hence, and stand

aloof;—
Yet put it out, for I would not be seen.
Under yon yew-trees lay thee all along,
Holding thine ear close to the hollow ground;
So shall no foot upon the churchyard tread,

was not nice,] i. e. was not written on a trivial or idle

subject.

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