Act 5 Romeo and Juliet

Romeo My dreams presage some joyful news at hand. / Mr bosom’s lord sits lightly in his throne, / and all this day an unaccustomed 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 breathed such a life with kisses in my lips / That I revived and was an emperor.
Romeo There is thy gold, worse poison to men’s souls, / Doing more murder in this loathsome world / Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not / sell / I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none.
What is a franciscan? followers of Saint Francis, give lots to poverty, aka “barefoot brothers”
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 distilled by moans. / The obsequies that I for thee will keep / Nightly shall be to strew thy grave and weep.
Paris That is that banished haughty Montague / That murdered my love’s cousin, with which grief / It is supposed the fair creature died, / And here is come to do some villainous shame / To the dead bodies. I will apprehend him
Romeo A grave? O, no. A lantern, slaughtered youth, / For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes / This vault a feasting presence full of light. – / Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interred.
Balthasar As I did sleep under this yew tree here, / I dreamt my master and another fought, / And that my master slew him.
Juliet Yea, noise? Then I’ll be brief. O, happy dagger, this is thy sheath. There rust, and let me die. [Note: using romeo’s dagger]
Watchmen Pitiful sight! Here lies the County slain, / And Juliet bleeding, warm, and newly dead, / Who here hath lain this two days buried. – / Go, tell the Prince. Run to the Capulets. / Raise up the Montagues. Some others search.
Capulet 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.
Montague Alas, my liege, my wife is dead tonight.
Friar Lawrence 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.
Prince 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 punished.
Prince A glooming peace this morning with it brings. / The sun for sorrow will not show his head. / Go hence to have more talk of these sad things. / Some shall be pardoned, and some punished. / For never was a story of more woe / Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.

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