Farewell!--God knows when we shall meet again.
I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins
That almost freezes up the heat of life:
I'll call them back again to comfort me;--
Nurse!--What should she do here?
My dismal scene I needs must act alone.--
What if this mixture do not work at all?
Shall I be married, then, to-morrow morning?--
No, No!--this shall forbid it:--lie thou there.--
What if it be a poison, which the friar
Subtly hath minister'd to have me dead,
Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd,
Because he married me before to Romeo?
I fear it is: and yet methinks it should not,
For he hath still been tried a holy man:--
I will not entertain so bad a thought.--
How if, when I am laid into the tomb,
I wake before the time that Romeo
Come to redeem me? there's a fearful point!
Shall I not then be stifled in the vault,
To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in,
And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes?
Or, if I live, is it not very like
The horrible conceit of death and night,
Together with the terror of the place,--
As in a vault, an ancient receptacle,
Where, for this many hundred years, the bones
Of all my buried ancestors are pack'd;
Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth,
Lies festering in his shroud; where, as they say,
At some hours in the night spirits resort;--
Alack, alack, is it not like that I,
So early waking,--what with loathsome smells,
And shrieks like mandrakes torn out of the earth,
That living mortals, hearing them, run mad;--
O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught,
Environed with all these hideous fears?
And madly play with my forefathers' joints?
And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud?
And, in this rage, with some great kinsman's bone,
As with a club, dash out my desperate brains?--
O, look! methinks I see my cousin's ghost
Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body
Upon a rapier's point:--stay, Tybalt, stay!--
Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee.
William Shakespeare's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Juliet's Soliloquy by William Shakespeare )
Did you read them?
- Arid Sands, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Creating Escapades, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Living In Imagination, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Place Of My Own, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Retracing Memories, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- The Unimpressed Poet, Hebert Logerie
- Poetical Life Meanings, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Mere Words, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Occasions Of Promise, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- A LITTLE PRAYER, Vinaya Joseph
Poem of the Day
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Morning, Paul Laurence Dunbar
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Let America be America Again, Langston Hughes
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(13 September 1916 – 23 November 1990)
(8 February 1911 – 6 October 1979)
Paul Laurence Dunbar
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)