Page 66
Romeo:
Wilt thou provoke me? Then have at thee, boy!
(They fight.)
Page:
O lord, they fight! I will go call the watch.
(Exit.)
Paris:
O, I am slain! (Falls.) If thou be merciful,
Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet.
(Dies.)
Romeo:
In faith, I will. Let me peruse this face.
Mercutio’s kinsman, noble County Paris!
What said my man, when my betossed soul
Did not attend him as we rode? I think
He told me Paris should have married Juliet.
Said he not so? Or did I dream it so?
Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet,
To think it was so? O, give me thy hand,
One writ with me in sour misfortune’s book.
I’ll bury thee in a triumphant grave.
A grave? O no, a lantern, slaught’red 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 interr’d.
(Laying Paris in the monument.)