ACT IV.
8. 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 thine 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.]
 
 
The boy gives warning something doth approach.
 
What cursed foot wanders this way to-night,
 
To cross my obsequies and true love's rite?
 
What, with a torch! muffle me, night, awhile.
 
 
[Retires.] 
 
[Enter Romeo and Balthasar with a torch, mattock, &c.] 
 
Romeo.
 
Give me that mattock and the wrenching iron.
 
Hold, take this letter; early in the morning
 
See thou deliver it to my lord and father.
 
Give me the light; upon thy life I charge thee,
 
Whate'er thou hear'st or seest, stand all aloof
 
And do not interrupt me in my course.
 
Why I descend into this bed of death
 
Is partly to behold my lady's face,
 
But chiefly to take thence from her dead finger
 
A precious ring,--a ring that I must use
 
In dear employment: therefore hence, be gone:--
 
But if thou, jealous, dost return to pry
 
In what I further shall intend to do,
 
By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint,
 
And strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs:
 
The time and my intents are savage-wild;
 
More fierce and more inexorable far
 
Than empty tigers or the roaring sea. 
 
Balthasar.
 
I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you. 
 
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