our special “daughter” our champion . . . dear.
And a potion . . . we have given her, a powder, a solution . . . so entrancing (so deceptive) that death itself . . . she now imitates. That death itself . . . she now mimes.
But soon (Soon!) I tell you (and we have arranged this so carefully) . . . her dear Romeo yes her dear Romeo himself . . . will appear. And to this crypt . . . he’ll steal (to this marble beadstead). And her hair . . . he’ll touch (and her shuttered eyelids)