William Shakespeare - Sämtliche Werke von Shakespeare in einem Band - Zweisprachige Ausgabe (Deutsch-Englisch)

[Breaking open the door of the monument.]

And, in despite, I’ll cram thee with more food!

PARIS.

This is that banish’d haughty Montague

That murder’d my love’s cousin,—with which grief,

It is supposed, the fair creature died,—

And here is come to do some villanous shame

To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him.—

[Advances.]

Stop thy unhallow’d toil, vile Montague!

Can vengeance be pursu’d further than death?

Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee;

Obey, and go with me; for thou must die.

ROMEO.

I must indeed; and therefore came I hither.—

Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man;

Fly hence and leave me:—think upon these gone;

Let them affright thee.—I beseech thee, youth,

Put not another sin upon my head

By urging me to fury: O, be gone!

By heaven, I love thee better than myself;

For I come hither arm’d against myself:

Stay not, be gone;—live, and hereafter say,

A madman’s mercy bid thee run away.

PARIS.

I do defy thy conjurations,

And apprehend thee for a felon here.

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 lanthorn, 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.]

How oft when men are at the point of death

Have they been merry! which their keepers call

A lightning before death: O, how may I

Call this a lightning?—O my love! my wife!

Death, that hath suck’d the honey of thy breath,

Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty:

Thou art not conquer’d; beauty’s ensign yet

Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks,

And death’s pale flag is not advanced there.—

Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet?

O, what more favour 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 abhorred 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 chambermaids: O, 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!—

Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide!

Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on

The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark!

Here’s to my love! [Drinks.]—O true apothecary!

Thy drugs are quick.—Thus with a kiss I die.

[Dies.]

[Enter, at the other end of the Churchyard, Friar Lawrence, with a lantern, crow, and spade.]

FRIAR.

Saint Francis be my speed! how oft tonight

Have my old feet stumbled at graves!—Who’s there?

Who is it that consorts, so late, the dead?

BALTHASAR.

Here’s one, a friend, and one that knows you well.

FRIAR.

Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend,

What torch is yond that vainly lends his light

To grubs and eyeless skulls? as I discern,

It burneth in the Capels’ monument.

BALTHASAR.

It doth so, holy sir; and there’s my master,

One that you love.

FRIAR.

Who is it?

BALTHASAR.

Romeo.

FRIAR.

How long hath he been there?

BALTHASAR.

Full half an hour.

FRIAR.

Go with me to the vault.

BALTHASAR.

I dare not, sir;

My master knows not but I am gone hence;

And fearfully did menace me with death

If I did stay to look on his intents.

FRIAR.

Stay then; I’ll go alone:—fear comes upon me;

O, much I fear some ill unlucky thing.

BALTHASAR.

As I did sleep under this yew tree here,

I dreamt my master and another fought,

And that my master slew him.

FRIAR.

Romeo! [Advances.]

Alack, alack! what blood is this which stains

The stony entrance of this sepulchre?—

What mean these masterless and gory swords

To lie discolour’d by this place of peace?

[Enters the monument.]

Romeo! O, pale!—Who else? what, Paris too?

And steep’d in blood?—Ah, what an unkind hour

Is guilty of this lamentable chance!—The lady stirs.

[Juliet wakes and stirs.]

JULIET.

O comfortable friar! where is my lord?—

I do remember well where I should be,

And there I am:—where is my Romeo?

[Noise within.]

FRIAR.

I hear some noise.—Lady, come from that nest

Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep:

A greater power than we can contradict

Hath thwarted our intents:—come, come away!

Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead;

And Paris too:—come, I’ll dispose of thee

Among a sisterhood of holy nuns:

Stay not to question, for the watch is coming.

Come, go, good Juliet [noise within],—I dare no longer stay.

JULIET.

Go, get thee hence, for I will not away.—

[Exit Friar Lawrence.]

What’s here? a cup, clos’d in my true love’s hand?

Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end:—

O churl! drink all, and left no friendly drop

To help me after?—I will kiss thy lips;

Haply some poison yet doth hang on them,

To make me die with a restorative.

[Kisses him.]

Thy lips are warm!

1 WATCH.

[Within.] Lead, boy:—which way?

JULIET.

Yea, noise?—Then I’ll be brief.—O happy dagger!

[Snatching Romeo’s dagger.]

This is thy sheath [stabs herself]; there rest, and let me die.

[Falls on Romeo’s body and dies.]

[Enter Watch, with the Page of Paris.]

PAGE.

This is the place; there, where the torch doth burn.

1 WATCH.

The ground is bloody; search about the churchyard:

Go, some of you, whoe’er you find attach.

[Exeunt some of the Watch.]

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:—

[Exeunt others of the Watch.]

We see the ground whereon these woes do lie;

But the true ground of all these piteous woes

We cannot without circumstance descry.

[Re-enter some of the Watch with Balthasar.]

2 WATCH.

Here’s Romeo’s man; we found him in the churchyard.

1 WATCH.

Hold him in safety till the prince come hither.

[Re-enter others of the Watch with Friar Lawrence.]

3 WATCH.

Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs, and weeps: