Romeo and Juliet
Act V, Scene 1
Mantua. A street.
- Enter Romeo.
Romeo1 - 16
- If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep,
- My dreams presage some joyful news at hand.
- My bosom’s lord sits lightly in his throne,
- And all this day an unaccustom’d spirit
- Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.
- I dreamt my lady came and found me dead—
- Strange dream, that gives a dead man leave to think!—
- And breath’d such life with kisses in my lips
- That I reviv’d and was an emperor.
- Ah me, how sweet is love itself possess’d,
- When but love’s shadows are so rich in joy!
- Enter Romeo’s man Balthasar, booted.
- News from Verona! How now, Balthasar?
- Dost thou not bring me letters from the friar?
- How doth my lady? Is my father well?
- How doth my Juliet? That I ask again,
- For nothing can be ill if she be well.
Balthasar17 - 23
- Then she is well and nothing can be ill:
- Her body sleeps in Capel’s monument,
- And her immortal part with angels lives.
- I saw her laid low in her kindred’s vault,
- And presently took post to tell it you.
- O, pardon me for bringing these ill news,
- Since you did leave it for my office, sir.
Romeo24 - 26
- Is it e’en so? Then I defy you, stars!
- Thou knowest my lodging, get me ink and paper,
- And hire post-horses; I will hence tonight.
Balthasar27 - 29
- I do beseech you, sir, have patience.
- Your looks are pale and wild, and do import
- Some misadventure.
Romeo30 - 32
- Tush, thou art deceiv’d.
- Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do.
- Hast thou no letters to me from the friar?
- No, my good lord.
Romeo34 - 59
- No matter, get thee gone,
- And hire those horses; I’ll be with thee straight.
- Exit Balthasar.
- Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee tonight.
- Let’s see for means. O mischief, thou art swift
- To enter in the thoughts of desperate men!
- I do remember an apothecary—
- And hereabouts ’a dwells—which late I noted
- In tatt’red weeds, with overwhelming brows,
- Culling of simples; meager were his looks,
- Sharp misery had worn him to the bones;
- And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,
- An alligator stuff’d, and other skins
Of ill-shap’d fishes, and about his shelves
Feb 16, 2021 MikoApothecaries often had curiosities on display in their shops.
- A beggarly account of empty boxes,
- Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds,
Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses
Feb 16, 2021 MikoRose petals compressed into cakes for their perfume.
- Were thinly scattered, 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 forerun 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.
- Who calls so loud?
Romeo61 - 68
- Come hither, man. I see that thou art poor.
Hold, there is forty ducats; let me have
Feb 16, 2021 MikoGold coins minted in Venice; also a general purpose name for other European coins. Ducats were used throughout Europe.
- A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear
- 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.
Apothecary69 - 70
- Such mortal drugs I have, but Mantua’s law
Is death to any he that utters them.
Feb 16, 2021 Mikosells
Romeo71 - 77
- Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness,
- And fearest to die? Famine is in thy cheeks,
- Need and oppression starveth in thy eyes,
- Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back;
- 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.
- My poverty, but not my will, consents.
- I pay thy poverty, and not thy will.
Apothecary80 - 82
- Put this in any liquid thing you will
- And drink it off, and if you had the strength
- Of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight.
Romeo83 - 89
- There is thy gold, worse poison to men’s souls,
- Doing more murder in this loathsome world,
- Than these poor compounds that thou mayest not sell.
- I sell thee poison, thou hast sold me none.
- Farewell! Buy food, and get thyself in flesh.
- Exit Apothecary.
- Come, cordial and not poison, go with me
- To Juliet’s grave, for there must I use thee.