Act 4, Scene 1
When Juliet arrived at Friar Lawrence's place, Paris was there trying to arrange for Thursday's wedding. Paris thought she was there to have confession session with Friar Lawrence.
Do not deny to him that you love me.
I will confess to you that I love him.
The desperate Juliet begged Friar Lawrence for a solution, else she will kill herself. Friar Lawrence then gave her a sleep-inducing drug and told her his plan. He instructed Juliet to take the drug on Wednesday night and the drug will keep her in a deathlike state for forty-two hours. When Paris found her dead on Thursday morning, tradition will demand her to be put in an open coffin, and carried to the Capulet family tomb. He will watch over her till Romeo arrived and as soon as she woke up, they could flee to Mantua.
Act 4, Scene 2
Juliet returned home, apologised to her father for her stubbornness and promised to get married to Paris on the next morning.
Pardon, I beseech you!
Henceforward I am ever ruled by you.
Forgive me, I beg you.
From now on I’ll do whatever you say.
Act 4, Scene 3
Juliet urged the nurse to leave her alone for the night and go help her mother with the wedding preparation instead. Juliet was scared of all the possibilities if the plan were to go awry. But she drank the vial anyway.
Romeo, Romeo, Romeo! Here’s drink. I drink to thee.
Act 4, Scene 4
Soon it was morning and Capulet ran around making sure everything was well prepared. As he heard the music of Paris and his people arriving, he instructed the nurse to wake Juliet up for the wedding.
Act 4, Scene 5
The nurse went up to Juliet's bedroom to wake her up, only to find her dead on her bed.
Out, alas! She’s cold.
Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff.
Life and these lips have long been separated.
Shit! She's cold.
Her blood has stopped, and her hands and legs are stiff.
She has been dead for some time liao.
All things that we ordained festival
Turn from their office to black funeral.
Our instruments to melancholy bells,
Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast.
Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change,
Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse,
And all things change them to the contrary.