How oft when men are at the point of death
Have they been merry, which their keepers call
A lightning before death! Oh, how may I
Call this a lightning?—O my love, my wife!
Death, that hath sucked the honey of thy breath,
Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.
Thou art not conquered. Beauty’s ensign yet
Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks,
And death’s pale flag is not advancèd there.—
Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet?
O, what more favor can I do to thee,
Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain
To sunder his that was thine enemy?
Forgive me, cousin.—Ah, dear Juliet,
Why art thou yet so fair? Shall I believe
That unsubstantial death is amorous,
And that the lean abhorrèd monster keeps
Thee here in dark to be his paramour?
For fear of that, I still will stay with thee,
And never from this palace of dim night
Depart again. Here, here will I remain
With worms that are thy chamber maids. Oh, here
Will I set up my everlasting rest,
And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars
From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last.
Arms, take your last embrace. And, lips, O you
The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss
A dateless bargain to engrossing death.
(kisses JULIET, takes out the poison)
Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide.
Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on
The dashing rocks thy seasick, weary bark.
Here’s to my love! (drinks the poison) O true apothecary,
Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die.
How often are men happy right before they die! They call it the lightness before death. Oh, how can I call this lightness? Oh, my love! My wife! Death has sucked the honey from your breath, but it has not yet ruined your beauty. You haven’t been conquered. There is still red in your lips and in your cheeks. Death has not yet turned them pale. Tybalt, are you lying there in your bloody death shroud? Oh, what better favor can I do for you than to kill the man who killed you with the same hand that made you die young. Forgive me, cousin! Ah, dear Juliet, why are you still so beautiful? Should I believe that death is in love with you, and that the awful monster keeps you here to be his mistress? I don’t like that idea, so I’ll stay with you. And I will never leave this tomb. Here, here I’ll remain with worms that are your chamber-maids. Oh, I’ll rest here forever. I’ll forget about all the bad luck that has troubled me. Eyes, look out for the last time! Arms, make your last embrace! And lips, you are the doors of breath. Seal with a righteous kiss the deal I have made with death forever. (ROMEO kisses JULIET and takes out the poison) Come, bitter poison, come, unsavory guide! You desperate pilot, let’s crash this sea-weary ship into the rocks! Here’s to my love!
ROMEO drinks the poison.
Oh, that pharmacist was honest! His drugs work quickly. So I die with a kiss.