Then she is well, and nothing can be ill:

Her body sleeps in Capel's monument,

And her immortal part with angels lives.

Is it even so? then I defy you, stars!

Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night.

Let's see for means: O mischief, thou art swift

To enter in the thoughts of desperate men!

I do remember an apothecary,--

Hold, there is forty ducats: let me have

A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear

As will disperse itself through all the veins

That the life-weary taker may fall dead

Hold, there is forty ducats: let me have

A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear

As will disperse itself through all the veins

That the life-weary taker may fall dead

I could not send it,--here it is again,--

Nor get a messenger to bring it thee,

So fearful were they of infection.

She will beshrew me much 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, closed in a dead man's tomb!