No matter. Get thee gone, And hire those horses; I'll be with thee straight.
Her body sleeps in Capels' monument, and her immortal part with angels lives. I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault, And presently took post to tell it you.
Noting this penury, to myself I said, “An if a man did need a poison now”— Whose sale is present death in Mantua— “Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.”
Come hither, man. I see that thou art poor. Hold, there is forty ducats. Let me have A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear As will disperse itself through all the veins That the life-weary taker may fall dead
Who calls so loud?
There is thy gold, worse poison to men’s souls, Doing more murder in this loathsome world, To Juliet’s grave, for there must I use thee.
Put this in any liquid thing you will And drink it off
Romeo is in Mantua, and Balthasar has come back with grave news.
Romeo has come to the Apothecary to find a poison
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