Like Death

Friar Laurence: Hold then, go home, be merry, give consent,
 To marry Paris: Wednesday is tomorrow,
 To-morrow night look that thou lie alone,
 Let not the Nurse lie with thee in thy chamber:
 Take thou this vial, being then in bed,
 And this distilled liquor drink thou off,
 When presently through all thy veins shall run,
 A cold and drowsy humour: for no pulse
 Shall keep his native progress but surcease,
 No warmth, no breath shall testify thou livest,
 The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade
 To many ashes, thy eyes' windows fall:
 Like death when he shuts up the day of life:
 Each part depriv'd of supple government,
 Shall stiff and stark, and cold appear like death,
 And in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk death
 Thou shalt continue two and forty hours,
 And then awake as from a pleasant sleep.
 Now when the Bridegroom in the morning comes,
 To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead:
 Then as the manner of our country is,
 In thy best robes uncovered on the bier,
 Be borne to burial in thy kindred's grave:
 Thou shalt be borne to that same ancient vault,
 Where all the kindred of the Capulet's lie;
 In the mean time against thou shalt awake,
 Shall Romeo by my letter know our drift,
 And hither shall he come, and he and I
 Will watch thy waking, and that very night
 Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua.
 And this shall free thee from this present shame.