hath lain these two days buried.
Go, tell the prince: run to the Capulets:
Raise up the Montagues: some others search:
We see the ground whereon these woes do lie;
But the true ground of all these piteous woes
We cannot without circumstance descry.
Here's Romeo's man; we found him in the churchyard.
Hold him in safety, till the prince come hither.
Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs and weeps:
We took this mattock and this spade from him,
As he was coming from this churchyard side.
A great suspicion: stay the friar too.
What misadventure is so early up,
That calls our person from our morning's rest?
What should it be, that they so shriek abroad?
The people in the street cry Romeo,
Some Juliet, and some Paris; and all run,
With open outcry toward our monument.
What fear is this which startles in our ears?
Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain;
And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before,
Warm and new kill'd.
Search, seek, and know how this foul murder comes.
Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's man;
With instruments upon them, fit to open
These dead men's tombs.
O heavens! O wife, look how our daughter bleeds!
This dagger hath mista'en--for, lo, his house
Is empty on the back of Montague,--
And it mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom!
O me! this sight of death is as a bell,
That warns my old age to a sepulchre.
Come, Montague; for thou art early up,
To see thy son and heir more early down.
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?
Look, and thou shalt see.
O thou untaught! what manners is in this?
To press before thy father to a grave?
Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while,
Till we can clear these ambiguities,
And know their spring, their head, their
true descent;
And then will I be general of your woes,
And lead you even to death: meantime forbear,
And let mischance be slave to patience.
Bring forth the parties of suspicion.
I am the greatest, able to do least,
Yet most suspected, as the time and place
Doth make against me of this direful murder;
And here I stand, both to impeach and purge
Myself condemned and myself excused.
Then say at once what thou dost know in this.
I will be brief, for my short date of breath
Is not so long as is a tedious tale.
Romeo, there dead,