Where the infectious pestilence did reign,

Seal’d up the doors, and would not let us forth,

So that my speed to Mantua there was stay’d.


FRIAR LAWRENCE.

Who bare my letter then to Romeo?


FRIAR JOHN.

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

Nor get a messenger to bring it thee,

So fearful were they of infection.


FRIAR LAWRENCE.

Unhappy fortune! By my brotherhood,

The letter was not nice, but full of charge,

Of dear import, and the neglecting it

May do much danger. Friar John, go hence,

Get me an iron crow and bring it straight

Unto my cell.


FRIAR JOHN.

Brother, I’ll go and bring it thee.


 [Exit.]
FRIAR LAWRENCE.

Now must I to the monument alone.

Within this three hours will fair Juliet wake.

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, clos’d in a dead man’s tomb.


 [Exit.]
SCENE III. A churchyard; in it a Monument belonging to the Capulets.
 Enter Paris, and his

Page bearing flowers and a torch.
PARIS.

Give me thy torch, boy. Hence and stand aloof.

Yet put it out, for I would not be seen.

Under yond yew tree lay thee all along,

Holding thy ear close to the hollow ground;

So shall no foot upon the churchyard tread,

Being loose, unfirm, with digging up of graves,

But thou shalt hear it. Whistle then to me,

As signal that thou hear’st something approach.

Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go.


PAGE.

[Aside.] I am almost afraid to stand alone

Here in the churchyard; yet I will adventure.


 [Retires.]
PARIS.

Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal bed I strew.

O woe, thy canopy is dust and stones,

Which with sweet water nightly I will dew,

Or wanting that, with tears distill’d by moans.

The obsequies that I for thee will keep,

Nightly shall be to strew thy grave and weep.


 [The Page whistles.]