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Alack, alack, what blood is this, which stains
The stony entrance of this sepulchre ?
What mean these masterless and gory swords
To lie discolour'd by this place of peace?

[enters the monument.
Romeo! O, pale!-Who else? what, Paris too?
And steep'd in blood?—Ah,. what an unkind hour
Is guilty of this lamentable chance!—
The lady stirs.
[Juliet wakes and stirs.
Jul. O, comfortable friar! where is my lord?
I do remember well where I should be,
And there I am:-where is my Romeo?

[noise within. Fri. I hear some noise.-Lady, come from that Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep; [nest A greater power than we can contradict Hath thwarted our intents; come, come away; Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead; And Paris too. Come, I'll dispose of thee Among a sisterhood of holy nuns: Stay not to question, for the watch is coming; Come, go, good Juliet,—[noise again] I dare stay no longer.

[exit. 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 :O churl! 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. [kisses him. Thy lips are warm

1 Watch. [within] Lead, boy:—which way? Jul. Yea, noise? then I'll be brief.-O happy dagger! [snatching Romeo's dagger. This is thy sheath; [stabs herself] there rust, and let me die. [falls on Romeo's body, and dies. Enter Watch, with the Page of Paris. Page. This is the place; there, where the torch [the church-yard. 1 Watch. The ground is bloody; search about Go, some of you, who'er you find, attach.

doth burn.

[exeunt some. Pitiful sight! here lies the county slain ;And Juliet, bleeding; warm, and newly dead, Who here hath lain these two days buried.Go, tell the prince,-run to the Capulets,-Raise up the Montagues,— -some others search. [exeunt other Watchmen. We see the ground whereon these woes do lie; But the true ground of all these piteous woes, We cannot without circumstance descry.

Enter some of the Watch, with Balthasar. 2 Watch. Here's Romeo's man, we found him in the church-yard. [come hither. 1 Watch. Hold him in safety, till the prince Enter another Watchman, with Friar Laurence. 2 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.

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1 Watch. A great suspicion; stay the friar toa Enter the Prince and Attendants. Prince. What misadventure is so early up, That calls our person from our morning's rest? Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, and others. Cap. What should it be, that they so shriek abroad? Lady C. The people in the street cry-Romeo, Some Juliet, and some-Paris; and all run, With open outcry, toward our monument. [ears? Prince. What fear is this which startles in our 1 Watch. Sovereign, here lies the county Paris And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before, [slain; Warm and new kill'd.

Prince. Search, seek, and know how this foul murder comes. [man;

1 Watch. Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's With instruments upon them, fit to open These dead men's tombs. [daughter bleeds'

Cap. O, heavens!-O, wife! look how our This dagger hath mista'en,—for lo! his house Is empty on the back of Montague,— And is mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom. Lady C. O me! this sight 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 more early down.

Mon. Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night; Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath: What further woe conspires against mine age?

Prince. Look, and thou shalt see.

Mon. O thou untaught! what manners is in this To press before thy father to a grave?

Prince. Seal up the mouth of outrage for awhile Till we can clear these ambiguities,


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Prince. Then say at once what thou dost know ir Fri. I will be brief, for my short date of breath Is not so long as is a tedious tale. Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet ; And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife: I married them; and their stolen marriage day Was Tybalt's dooms-day, whose untimely death Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from this city; For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pin'd. You-to remove that siege of grief from her,Betroth'd, and would have married her perforce, To county Paris:-then comes she to me; And, with wild looks, bids me devise some means To rid her from this second marriage, Or, in my cell, there would she kill herself. Then gave I her, so tutor'd by my art, A sleeping-potion; which so took effect As I intended, for it wrought on her The form of death: mean time I writ to Romeo, That he should hither come as this dire night, To help to take her from her borrow'd grave,

Being the time the potion's force should cease.
But he which bore my letter, Friar John,
Was staid by accident; and yesternight
Return'd my letter back: then all alone,
At the prefixed hour of her waking,
Came I to take her from her kindred's vault;
Meaning to keep her closely at my cell,
Till I conveniently could send to Romeo:
But, when I came (some minute ere the time
Of her awakening), here untimely lay
The noble Paris, and true Romeo, dead.
She wakes; and I entreated her come forth,
And bear this work of heaven with patience:
But then a noise did scare me from the tomb,
And she, too desperate, would not go with me.
But (as it seems) did violence on herself.
All this I know; and to the marriage
Her nurse is privy: and, if aught in this
Miscarried by my fault, let my old life
Be sacrific'd, some hour before his time,
Unto the rigour of severest law.


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Page. He came with flowers to strew his lady's And bid me stand aloof, and so I did: (grave; Anon, comes one with light to ope the tomb; And, by and by, my master drew on him; And then I ran away to call the watch. [words, Prince. This letter doth make good the friar's Their course of love, the tidings of her death: And here he writes, that he did buy a poison Of a poor 'pothecary, and therewithal Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet.Where be these enemies? Capulet! Montague!See what a scourge is laid upon your hate, That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love! And I, for winking at your discords too, Have lost a brace of kinsmen :-all are punish'd. Cap. O, brother Montague, give me thy hand: This is my daughter's jointure for no more Can I demand.

Mon. But I can give thee more: For I will raise her statue in pure gold: That, while Verona by that name is known, There shall no figure at such rate be set, As that of true and faithful Juliet. Cap. As rich shall Romeo by his lady lie; Poor sacrifices of our enmity! [brings. Prince. A glooming peace this morning with it The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head: Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished. For never was a story of more woe, Than this of Juliet and her Romeo..


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Poet. I have not seen you long; how goes the Pain. It wears, sir, as it grows. Poet. Ay, that's well known: But what particular rarity? what strange, Which manifold record not matches? See, Magic of bounty! all these spirits thy power Hath conjur'd to attend. I know the merchant. Pain. I know them both: t'other's a jeweller. Mer. O, 'tis a worthy lord! Jew. Nay, that's most fix'd.


Mer. A most incomparable man; breath'd, as it To an untirable and continuate goodness: He passes..

Jew. I have a jewel here.

Mer. O, pray, let's see't: for the lord Timon, sir? Jew. If he will touch the estimate: but, for thatPoet. When we for recompense have prais'd the It stains the glory in that happy verse [vile, Which aptly sings the good.

Mer. 'Tis a good form. [looking at the jewel. Jew. And rich: here is a water, look you. Pain. You are rapt, sir, in some work, some To the great lord. [dedication

Poet. A thing slipp'd idly from me.
Our poesy is as a gum, which oozes

From whence 'tis nourished: the fire i'the flint
Shows not, till it be struck; our gentle flame
Provokes itself, and, like the current, flies

Each bound it chafes. What have you there?

Pain. A picture, sir.-And when comes your book forth?

Poet. Upon the heels of my presentment, sir.

Let's see your piece.

Pain. "Tis a good piece.

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Poet. I'll say of it,

It tutors nature: artificial strife

Lives in these touches, livelier than life.
Enter certain Senators, and pass over.

Pain. How this lord's follow'd!

Poet. The senators of Athens:-happy men! Pain. Look, more!

[of visitors.

Poet. You see this confluence, this great flood
I have, in this rough work, shap'd out a man,
Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug
With amplest entertainment: my free drift
Halts not particularly, but moves itself
In a wide sea of wax: no levell'd malice
Infects one comma in the course I hold;
But flies an eagle-flight, bold, and forth on,
Leaving no tract behind.

Pain. How shall I understand you?
Poet. I'll unbolt to you.

You see how all conditions, how all minds,
(As well of glib and slippery creatures, as
Of grave and austere quality), tender down
Their services to lord Timon: his large fortune,
Upon his good and gracious nature hanging,
Subdue and properties to his love and tendance
All sorts of hearts; yea, from the glass-fac'd flatterer
To Apemantus, that few things loves better
Than to abhor himself: even he drops down
The knee before him, and returns in peace
Most rich in Timon's nod.

Pain. I saw them speak together.

Poet. Sir, I have, upon a high and pleasant hill,

Poet. So 'tis this comes off well and excellent. Feign'd Fortune to be thron'd: the base o'the mount

Is rank'd with all deserts, all kind of naturės,
That labour on the bosom of this sphere
To propagate their states: amongst them all,
Whose eyes are on this sovereign lady fix'd,
One do I personate of lord Timon's frame,
Whom Fortune with her ivory hands wafts to her;
Whose present grace to present slaves and servants
Translates his rivals.

Pain. 'Tis conceiv'd to scope.

This throne, this Fortune, and this hill methinks,
With one man beckon'd from the rest below,
Bowing his head against the steepy mount
To climb his happiness, would be well express'd
In our condition.

Poet. Nay, sir, but hear me on:

All those which were his fellows but of late,
(Some better than his value), on the moment
Follow his strides, his lobbies fill with tendance,
Rain sacrificial whisperings in his ear,

Make sacred even his stirrup, and through him
Drink the free air.

Pain. Ay, marry, what of these?

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And my estate deserves an heir more rais'd, Than one which holds a trencher.

Tim. Well; what further?

Old Ath. One only daughter have I, no kin else, On whom I may confer what I have got: The maid is fair, o'the youngest for a bride, And I have bred her at my dearest cost, In qualities of the best. This man of thine Attempts her love: I pr'ythee, noble lord, Join with me to forbid him her resort; Myself have spoke in vain.

Tim. The man is honest.

Old Ath. Therefore he will be, Timon:
His honesty rewards him in itself,
It must not bear my daughter.

Tim. Does she love him?

Old Ath. She is young, and apt:
Our own precedent passions do instruct us
What levity's in youth.

Tim. [to Lucilius] Love you the maid?
Luc. Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it.
Old Ath. If in her marriage my consent be

Poet. When Fortune, in her shift and change of I call the gods to witness, I will choose [missing,


Spurns down her late-belov'd, all his dependants, Which labour'd after him to the mountain's top, Even on their knees and hands, let him slip down, Not one accompanying his declining foot.

Pain. 'Tis common:

A thousand moral paintings I can show,
That shall demonstrate these quick blows of fortune
More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well,
To show lord Timon, that mean eyes have seen
The foot above the head.
Trumpets sound. Enter Timon, attended; the
Servant of Ventidius talking with him.
Tim. Imprison'd is he, say you? [debt;
Ven. Serv. Ay, my good lord: five talents is his
His means most short, his creditors most strait:
Your honourable letter he desires!

To those have shut him up; which failing to him,
Periods his comfort.

Tim. Noble Ventidius! Well;

I am not of that feather, to shake off

My friend when he must need me. I do know him A gentleman, that well deserves a help, [him. Which he shall have: I'll pay the debt, and free Ven. Serv. Your lordship ever binds him. A Tim. Commend me to him: I will send his


And, being enfranchis'd, bid him come to me:-
Tis not enough to help the feeble up,
But to support him after.-Fare you well.
Ven. Serv. All happiness to your honour! [exit.
Enter an old Athenian.

Old. Ath. Lord Timon, hear me speak.
Tim. Freely, good father.

Old Ath. Thou hast a servant, nam'd Lucilius.
Tim. I have so. What of him?

[thee. Old Ath. Most noble Timon, call the man before Tim. Attends he here, or no?Lucilius!

Enter Lucilius.

Luc. Here, at your lordship's service. [creature, Old Ath. This fellow here, lord Timon, this thy By night frequents my house. I am a man That from my first have been inclin'd to thrift:

Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world, And dispossess her all.

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Tim. How shall she be endow'd, If she be mated with an equal husband? [all. Old Ath. Three talents, on the present: in future. Tim. This gentleman of mine hath serv'd me To build his fortune, I will strain a little, [long: For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter: What you bestow, in him I'll counterpoise, And make him weigh with her.

Old Ath. Most noble lord,

Pawn me to this your honour, she is his. [mise. Tim. My hand to thee; mine honour on my proLuc. Humbly I thank your lordship: never may That state or fortune fall into my keeping, Which is not ow'd to you! [exeunt Luc. and old Ath. Poet. Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lordship!

Tim. I thank you; you shall hear from me anon. Go not away. What have you there, my friend? Pain. A piece of painting, which I do beseech Your lordship to accept.

Tim. Painting is welcome. The painting is almost the natural man; For, since dishonour traffics 'with man's nature, He is but outside: these pencil'd figures are Even such as they give out. I like your work And you shall find, I like it; wait attendance Till you hear further from me.


Pain. The gods preserve you!
Tim. Well fare you, gentlemen: give me your
We must needs dine together.Sir, your jewel
Hath suffer'd under praise.

Jew. What, my lord, dispraise?
Tim. A mere satiety of commendations.
If I should pay you for't, as 'tis extoll'd,
It would unclew me quite.

Jew. My lord, 'tis rated


As those, which sell, would give: but you well Things of like value, differing in the owners, Are priz'd by their masters: believ't, dear lord, You mend the jewel by wearing it.

Tim. Well mock'd.

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Apem. Then I repent not.


Jew. You know me, Apemantus.
Apem. Thou knowest, I do; I call'd thee by thy
Tim. Thou art proud, Apemantus.
Apem. Of nothing so much as that I am not
Tim. Whither art going? [like Timon.
Apem. To knock out an honest Athenian's brains.
Tim. That's a deed thou'lt die for. [law.
Apem. Right, if doing nothing be death by the
Tim. How likest thou this picture, Apemantus?
Apem. The best, for the innocence.

Tim. Wrought he not well, that painted it? Apem. He wrought better, that made the painter; and yet he's but a filthy piece of work.

Pain. You are a dog.

Apem. Thy mother's of my generation; what's she, if I be a dog?

Tim. Wilt dine with me, Apemantus?
Apem. No; I eat not lords.

Tim. An thou should'st, thoud'st anger ladies.
Apem. O, they eat lords: so they come by great
Tim. That's a lascivious apprehension. [bellies.
Apem. So thou apprehend'st it: take it for thy

Tim. How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus? Apem. Not so well as plain-dealing, which will

not cost a man a doit.

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Apem. Traffic confound thee, if the gods will not!
Mer. If traffic do it, the gods do it. [thee!
Apem. Traffic's thy god, and thy god confound
Trumpets sound. Enter a Servant.

Tim. What trumpet's that?
Serv. 'Tis Alcibiades, and

Some twenty horse, all of companionship. [us.-
Tim. Pray, entertain them; give them guide to
[exeunt some Attendants
You must needs dine with me:-go not you hence,
Till I have thank'd you; and, when dinner's done,
Show me this piece.-I am joyful of your sights.-
Enter Alcibiades, with his company.
Most welcome, sir.

Apem. So, so; there!

[they salute. Aches contract and starve your supple joints!— That there should be small love 'mongst these sweet knaves,

And all this court'sy! The strain of man's bred out Into baboon and monkey.

Alcib. Sir, you have sav'd my longing, and I feed Most hungrily on your sight.

Tim. Right welcome, sir:

Ere we depart, we'll share a bounteous time
In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in.
[exeunt all but Apemantus.
Enter two Lords.

1 Lord. What time a-day is't, Apemantus?
Apem. Time to be honest.


1 Lord. That time serves still. Apem. The more accursed thou, that still omit'st 2 Lord. Thou art going to Lord Timon's feast. Apem. Ay; to see meat fill knaves, and wine 2 Lord. Fare thee well, fare thee well. [heat fools Apem. Thou art a fool, to bid me farewell, twice. 2 Lord. Why, Apemantus?

Apem. Should'st have kept one to thyself, for I mean to give thee none.

1 Lord. Hang thyself.

Apem. No, I will do nothing at thy bidding; make thy requests to thy friend.

2 Lord. Away, unpeaceable dog, or I'll spurn thee hence.

Apem. I will fly, like a dog, the heels of the ass. [exit.

1 Lord. He's opposite to humanity. Come, shall we in,

And taste Lord Timon's bounty? He outgoes The very heart of kindness.


2 Lord. He pours Sout; Plutus, the god of Is but his steward: no meed, but he repays Sevenfold above itself: no gift to him, But breeds the giver a return exceeding All use of quittance.

1 Lord. The noblest mind he carries, That ever govern'd man.

2 Lord. Long may he live in fortunes! 1 Lord. I'll keep you company.

[we in? Shall [exeunt.


Hautboys playing loud music. A great banquet served in; Flavius and others attending; then enter Timon, Alcibiades, Lucius, Lucullus, Sempronius, and other Athenian Senators, with Ventidius and Attendants. Then comes, dropping after all, Apemantus, discontentedly.

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