1 I sell thee poison, thou hast sold me none.
2 Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, To make me die with a restorative.
3 Come, cordial and not poison, go with me To Juliet's grave, for there must I use thee.
4 And here he writes that he did buy a poison Of a poor 'pothecary, and therewithal Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet.'
5 Madam, if you could find out but a man To bear a poison, I would temper it, That Romeo should upon receipt thereof, Soon sleep in quiet.
6 There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls, Doing more murder in this loathsome world Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell.
7 Noting this penury, to myself I said, And if a man did need a poison now, Whose sale is present death in Mantua, Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.
8 Let me have A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear As will disperse itself through all the veins, That the life-weary taker may fall dead, And that the trunk may be discharg'd of breath As violently as hasty powder fir'd Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb.
9 Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning, One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish; Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning; One desperate grief cures with another's languish: Take thou some new infection to thy eye, And the rank poison of the old will die.