| ACT IV.
6. Scene I. Mantua. A Street.
 [Enter Romeo.]
 Romeo.
If I may trust the flattering eye of sleep,
 My dreams presage some joyful news at hand;
 My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne;
 And all this day an unaccustom'd spirit
 Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.
 I dreamt my lady came and found me dead,--
 Strange dream, that gives a dead man leave to think!--
 And breath'd such life with kisses in my lips,
 That I reviv'd, and was an emperor.
 Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess'd,
 When but love's shadows are so rich in joy!
 
 [Enter Balthasar.]
 
 News from Verona!--How now, Balthasar?
 Dost thou not bring me letters from the friar?
 How doth my lady? Is my father well?
 How fares my Juliet? that I ask again;
 For nothing can be ill if she be well.
 
 Balthasar.
Then she is well, and nothing can be ill:
 Her body sleeps in Capel's 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:
 O, pardon me for bringing these ill news,
 Since you did leave it for my office, sir.
 
 Romeo.
Is it even so? then I defy you, stars!--
 Thou know'st my lodging: get me ink and paper,
 And hire post-horses. I will hence to-night.
 
 Balthasar.
I do beseech you, sir, have patience:
 Your looks are pale and wild, and do import
 Some misadventure.
 
 Romeo.
Tush, thou art deceiv'd:
 Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do.
 Hast thou no letters to me from the friar?
 
 Balthasar.
No, my good lord.
 
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