A mourning Paris visits Juliet’s tomb. Romeo arrives, and the two begin a duel outside the vault, which ends in Paris’s death. When Romeo enters the tomb, he sees Juliet in a corpse-like state and launches into a long, sad speech, kisses her, and drinks his poison. Friar Lawrence enters, just a moment too late, and sees Romeo’s corpse lying beside not-dead Juliet. She wakes up, and Friar Lawrence attempts to convince her to flee the scene. But she won’t leave Romeo. She grabs the vial of poison, but there’s none left. Instead, she reaches for her dagger and then stabs herself. She dies by Romeo’s side. Not long after, the Prince, the Montagues, the Capulets, and several others arrive, horrified to see what has become of Romeo and Juliet. The Friar tells them the whole story. The Prince points out to the Montagues and the Capulets that this tragedy stemmed from their feud, and the two families agree to end their ancient grudge.
Modern English:Give me your torch, boy. Go stand away from me. No, put out the torch. I’d rather not been seen. Lie there under those yew trees with your ears close to the ground. That way you’ll hear if anyone comes into the churchyard or tries to dig up a grave. If you hear someone, signal me by whistling. Give me those flowers. Do as I asked you to. Go.
I’m almost afraid to wait here in the churchyard, but I’ll try to be brave.
Juliet, sweet flower, I’ll spread flowers on your bridal bed. Oh woe! Your bed’s canopy is made of dust and stones. I’ll sprinkle it with perfume every night, or in lieu of scent, I’ll sprinkle it with my own tears distilled from my sadness. I’ll keep an observance for you every night, sprinkling your grave with perfume and weeping here.
[The Page whistles]The boy gave the signal that something’s coming. Who could possibly be wandering here tonight, interfering with the rituals of my true love? Oh, they’ve got a torch! Night, hide me for awhile.
Give me the ax and the crowbar. Hang on, take this letter. Make sure you deliver it to my father early in the morning. Give me the torch. On my life, I order you to stay here. Don’t follow me no matter what your hear or see. Don’t interrupt me in my business. I’m going into this tomb partly to see her face, but mostly because I have to take a precious ring that I need for a very costly business. So get out of here, go away.
If you come back to pry into what I’m doing, I swear by heaven that I’ll rip you apart and spread your limbs around this churchyard. This is a desperate time and I’m a desperate man, and these things make me more savage, fiercer, and harder to stop than a tiger or a stormy sea. Both of those will roar but not do anything.
I’ll go and not bother you, sir.
In doing so you’re being a good friend. Take this. Live on and be prosperous. And farewell, good fellow.
[Aside] All the same, I’ll hide here. I’m afraid for him and I doubt he’ll do what he threatened.
You, entrance to the tomb, are like the hated mouth of an animal. You’ve eaten the sweetest thing in the world, my Juliet, and she’s made you sick with her sweetness. Now I’m going to force your rotten jaws open to cram your mouth full with another victim.
Why that’s the exiled Montague, who murdered my love’s cousin. Everyone supposes that the murder caused her to die of grief. And here he comes to desecrate the dead bodies! I’ll apprehend him. Stop this unholy work, you vile Montague! Are you trying to get vengeance on these people beyond death? Damned villain, I will arrest you. Obey and go with me, for you must die.
I must indeed, and that’s what I came here for. Gentle young man, don’t tempt someone as desperate as me to violence.
Get out of here and leave me. Let your fear of these dead bodies spur you to go. I beg you, young man, don’t make me commit more sins by provoking me to fight you. Oh, go away! I swear to heaven, I have more love for you than for myself. After all, I came here intending to hurt myself. Don’t stay here, go away, live, and tell people later that a merciful madman urged you to run away.
I challenge your disgusting behaviour, and I’m arresting you as a criminal here.
You’re going to provoke me? Well then have at it, boy!
Oh Lord, they’re fighting! I’ll go call the night’s watch.
Oh, I’ve been killed! If you are truly merciful, open up the tomb and lay me down beside Juliet.
Indeed I will. Let me look at this face. It’s Mercutio’s cousin, Count Paris! What did my servant say, when my mind was too troubled to pay attention as we were riding here? I think he told me Paris was supposed to marry Juliet. Didn’t he say that? Or did I dream it?
Or have I gone mad, hearing him talking about Juliet, and that’s why I think that’s true? Oh give me your hand. You, like me, seem to be written down on fate’s list of the unlucky! I’ll bury you in a glorious grave. A grave? Oh no! I’ll bury you where there is light, poor slaughtered youth. For here lies Juliet, and her radiant beauty makes this dark crypt full of light. Dead soul, lie there, buried by one soon to be dead himself. Isn’t it strange how often people are described as happy when they’re at the point of death? Their caretakers call it lightning before death.
Oh how can I call my own a lightning? Oh my love! My wife! Death, which has taken away your sweet breath, has not yet taken away your beauty. You haven’t yet been truly conquered, and Beauty still carries its red coat-of arms in your cheeks and lips like a proud army that has not yet submitted to Death and its pale flags. Tybalt, are you lying there in your bloody shroud? Oh what more can I do for you than to kill myself, your enemy, with the very hand that cut off your youth?
Forgive me, cousin! Ah dear Juliet, why are you still so beautiful? Is invisible death in love with you? Is that hated monster keeping you in this tomb to be his lover? I’m afraid he might be, so I’ll stay here with you, and I’ll never leave this palace of dim night again. Here, right here, I’ll remain with the worms that are your chambermaids now. Oh, here I’ll set up my everlasting rest, and I’ll shake off the burden of my unlucky fate from my weary body. Eyes, look for the last time!
Arms, take your last embrace! And lips, with this virtuous kiss seal a contract with death that has no end or limit! Let’s go, bitter action. Let’s go, guiding hand! Rush on like a pilot driven mad with sea-sickness, crashing a ship on the rocks. Here’s to my love! [Drinks] Oh you were a true apothecary! Your drugs work quickly. I’ll die with a kiss.
Saint Francis lead me on! How frequently tonight I’ve stumbled over graves! Who’s there?
I’m here, I know you well.
Happiness be yours! Tell me, my good friend, what’s that torch over there that casts a light over the skulls? It seems as though it’s burning from inside the Capulet’s mausoleum.
Yes it is, holy father, and my master’s in there--someone you’re very fond of.