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120 ACT V. Scene I. Mantua. A Street. Enter Romeo. Romeo. If I may trust the flattering trutli of sleep, My dreams presage some joyful news at hand. My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne ; And all this day an unaccustoni'd spirit Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts. I dreamt my lady came and found me dead — Strange dream that gives a dead man leave to think ! — And breath'd such life with kisses in my lips, That I reviv'd, and was an emperor. Ah me ! how sweet is love itself possess'd, When but love's shadows are so rich in joy ! Enter Balthasar. News from Verona ! — How now, Balthasar ! Dost thou not bring me letters from the friar ? How doth my lady ? Is my father well ? How fares my Juliet ? that I ask again ; For nothing can be ill, if she be well. Balthasar. Then she is well, and nothing can be ill ; Her body sleeps in Capel's monument,