the whole house! Poor Paris lamenting his bride,
whom most detestable death had beguiled him of, had divorced from him
even before their hands were joined. But still more piteous it was to
hear the mournings of the old lord and lady Capulet, who having but
this one, one poor loving child to rejoice and solace in, cruel death
had snatched her from their sight, just as these careful parents were
on the point of seeing her advanced (as they thought) by a promising
and advantageous match. Now all things that were ordained for the
festival, were turned from their properties to do the office of a
black funeral. The wedding cheer served for a sad burial feast, the
bridal hymns were changed to sullen dirges, the sprightly instruments
to melancholy bells, and the flowers that should have been strewed in
the bride's path, now served but to strew her corse. Now instead of
a priest to marry her, a priest was needed to bury her; and she was
borne to church indeed, not to augment the cheerful hopes of the
living, but to swell the dreary numbers of the dead.

Bad news, which always travels faster than good, now brought the
dismal story of his Juliet's death to Romeo at Mantua, before the
messenger could arrive, who was sent from friar Lawrence to apprize
him that these were mock funerals only and but the shadow and
representation of death, and that his dear lady lay in the tomb but
for a short while, expecting when Romeo would come to release her from
that dreary mansion. Just before, Romeo had been unusually joyful and
light-hearted. He had dreamed in the night that he was dead (a strange
dream, that gave a dead man leave to think), and that his lady came
and found him dead, and breathed such life with kisses in his lips,
that he revived, and was an emperor! And now that a messenger came
from Verona, he thought surely it was to confirm some good news which
his dreams had presaged. But when the contrary to this flattering
vision appeared, and that it was his lady who was dead in truth, whom
he could not revive by any kisses, he ordered horses to be got ready,
for he determined that night to visit Verona, and to see his lady
in her tomb. And as mischief is swift to enter into the thoughts of
desperate men, he called to mind a poor apothecary, whose shop in
Mantua he had lately passed, and from the beggarly appearance of
the man, who seemed famished, and the wretched show in his shop of
empty boxes ranged on dirty shelves, and other to