Act V, Scene III
Verona. A churchyard; the monument of the Capulets. Enter Romeo and Paris.
This is that banished haughty Montague,
That murdered my love’s cousin, with which grief
It is supposed that fair creature died,
And here is come to do some villainous shame
To the dead bodies. I will apprehend him.
Stop thy unhallowed toil vile Montague.
Can vengance be pursued further than death?
Condemned villian, I do apprehend thee.
Obey and go with me, for thou must die.
I must indeed, and therefor came I hither,
Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man
For thou nor any man shall prevent me from being with my love tonight,
Put not another sin upon my head
By urging me to fury. O be gone
For I shall know not what I do but rather do what I must
A madman’s mercy bid thee, run away.
I defy thee!
For thou hast done my love great injustice.
Her love is mine!
Your love she shall never be!
[Paris is slain]
Forgive me good sir
For again, I know not what I do
Inside the tomb of Capulet
O Fair Juliet why must thou torture me so
For even in death thy beauty is paralleled only by the stars in the sky.
O Lord what great injustice hast thou done to thee
For my love is gone
And no greater crime against me can thou think of.
Tis our familes’ to blame
For they are blinded by tradition and driven by hatred.
O but it matters not.
Soon shall I be with thee and soon shall I once again be merry,
For to live forth be not true life but hell.
Only is life with thee heaven.
A choice have I,
Heaven, or Hell?
Ha! you must be jest, a question for the fools is this.
Heaven is thine choice!
Fair Juliet, as this vile poison shall pass through thine lips,
I think not of death, but light, of heavenly divine
That shall greeteth me once I have gone
And her name be Juliet.
[Romeo brings poison to his lips]
Gentle Romeo, the lord call you not.
For the death that hast become me, be no more than a mask that I wear
Can it be true?
Fair Juliet lives?
O thank the lord!
A love as great as thine can not be grasped even by Deaths icy hand!
For it looks death in the face and laughs!
O Dear love
Tis true this occasion is a merry one
Yet I fear happiness be here not.
Hark, something yonder is astir
[enter Friar Laurence]
O Thank the heavens a thousand fold
For it twas the worst that I feared for thee
Lucky are you the lord be by your side
But haste must be made both houses of Capulet and Montague come hither
And joining them be none other than Prince.
I bid thee, flee from this place of death