Bal. Here's one, a friend, and one that knows you well.
Fri. L. Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend, 124
What torch is yond, that vainly lends his light
To grubs and eyeless skulls? as I discern,
It burneth in the Capel's monument.
Bal. It doth so, holy sir; and there's my master, 128
One that you love.
Fri. L. Who is it?
Bal. Romeo.
Fri. L. How long hath he been there?
Bal. Full half an hour.
Fri. L. Go with me to the vault.
Bal. I dare not, sir.
My master knows not but I am gone hence; 132
And fearfully did menace me with death
If I did stay to look on his intents.
Fri. L. Stay then, I'll go alone. Fear comes upon me;
O! much I fear some ill unlucky thing. 136
Bal. As I did sleep under this yew-tree here,
I dreamt my master and another fought,
And that my master slew him.
Fri. L. [Advances.] Romeo!
Alack, alack, what blood is this which stains 140
The stony entrance of this sepulchre?
What mean these masterless and gory swords
To lie discolour'd by this place of peace?
[Enters the tomb.]
Romeo! O, pale! Who else? what! Paris too?
And steep'd in blood? Ah! what an unkind hour 145
Is guilty of this lamentable chance.
