Across
- 4. Sweet Flower, with flowers thy bridal bed I strew--/ ….Nightly shall I strew thy bed and weep.
- 6. Death lies upon her like an untimely frost / Upon the sweetest flower in all the field.
- 7. O true apothecary, / Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die.
- 8. Why lamb! Why lady! Fie, you slug-a-bed!
Down
- 1. My poverty, but not my will, consents [to sell something].
- 2. Come. I’ll dispose of thee among a sisterhood of holy nuns. Stay not to question, for the watch is coming.
- 3. For never was a story of more woe / Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.
- 5. O happy dagger, / This is thy sheath; there rust and let me die.