The Death of Lady Montague

by Marion Singleton
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Enter Montague

Montague: 'Tis a terrible day in Verona, madam.

Lady Montague: What is’t thou speak’st of?

Montague: Word is come from the Prince. Our son Romeo is banished.

Lady Montague: Banished?

Montague: Ay, my lady.
He hath suffered such horrible injury,
At the hand of Tybalt who he hath slain.

Lady Montague: What! O hellish day!
My dear lord, speak not what thou say is so!
By my troth, I cannot bare the pain.
My Romeo! My only son! Gone to ill shame!

(She weeps)

Montague: I would I were filled with lies,
But what I say i’the name of our dear Romeo is true.
For shame, he pranced i’the streets of Verona,
Thinking not upon his will, but out of his way.

Lady Montague: O woeful time! What is this?
How dost he come to this?
Speak on it, for my heart can no longer wait!

Montague: Peace, madam, I say.
You quicken with haste.

Lady Montague: With reason, sir.
For ‘tis the time wherein I lost my only son!
O lamentable day! O woeful time!
I would I were dead ere I heard this news!

Montague: The heat of day plagued long an’ hard o’er his body,
He was filled most surely with fire, yellow bile.
Became a saucy boy, an’ fought with that whoreson,
The ill-bred kinsman of the Capulets!

Lady Montague: Why canst I be happy,
‘Tis one less of th’ deserving enemy,
Who is reason for my grief.

Montague: Ay, good lady. ‘Tis also loss of Mercutio,
Romeo’s dear friend, an’ cousin of the Prince.

Lady Montague: What say you, sir?
Hath Romeo gone mad an’ slain Mercutio?
‘Tis the reason for his banishment,
At the hands of killing the Prince’s kinsman?

Montague: No, madam. Romeo shall not hold blame.
Tybalt hath slain Mercutio, who sought only to protect Romeo,
From the saucy whoreson Capulet.
Romeo avenged Mercutio, lying Tybalt to rest in the streets,
Like the dog he hast been from curséd birth.

Lady Montague: If what thou speak’st be th’ truth,
I beseech you, sir.
Beg the Prince for mercy o’er my dear Romeo.
He dost not deserve this cruel punishment,
For if i’were not by Romeo’s good hand,
Mercutio’s killer may walk on this earth again!

Montague: But if i’were not for Romeo,
Mercutio may not have fought with Tybalt,
‘Tis too late, madam. Romeo is exiled.
What shall be, shall be.

Lady Montague: Fie! Fie! How canst thou be at ease,
When Romeo hast been cast away.
What is it thou speak’st?
What shall be, shall be?
How now, what are you?
I will not have it so!

Montague: ‘Tis not death we speak of.
Romeo is one who hath a chance to live.
Th’ other two are dead. They will be no more!
Make dry of thy face an’ lose th’ tears of wantonness.
I’ will turn thee mad; turn thee into an earthy woman!

Lady Montague: Pardon, me, sir. What thou say’st,
I hold dear. ‘Tis true, I behave like a child,
Your words are happily met.
No more on it.
(Aside) Think not that I will go on like this,
I love Romeo so dear, his presence is my heartbeat.

Montague: I pray three,
Get you to bed, faith.
I’ will be better come morn.
Boy! Come hither! Ho!

(Servant enters)

Get th’ lady to bed.
By dawn i’ will be a new day.
Much to do ere chaos breaks way again.

Servant: Ay, my good lord. I will be sure of it.

(Montague exits)

Madam, wilt thou follow me to the chamber?

Lady Montague: Fetch me a glass of water ere I to bed.
I will to bed upon your return.

Servant: Marry, madam, I will.

(Servant exits)

Lady Montague: If i’ were not for loving of mine own,
Then I shall not mind if I were alone
With grace I pardoned th’ mistake of thine,
An’ covered it as if i’were all mine.
Why dost thou think’st that it is okay,
To merrily go on a happy way,
While Romeo is banished here on out.
I may no longer walk this earth without
My son! Yea, I gave birth to watch him grow.
My love for him, that man may ne’er know.
An’ whilst thou march about this life untrue,
I must indeed bid farewell Montague.
For live me not within this grief an’ strife,
Ere rivals may, I here do take my life!

(Kills herself)

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