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.]
