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Look to the bak'd meats, good Angelica: I needs must wake her. Madam, madam, Spare not for cost.
Go, go, you cot-quean, go; Ay, let the county take you in your bed; Get you to bed; faith, you'll be sick to-morrow He'll fright you up, i' faith. Will it not be? For this night's watching.
8 What, dress'd! and in your clothes! and down Cap. No, not a whit; what! I have watch'd again!
I must needs wake you. Ladyl lady! lady! All night for lesser cause, and ne'er been sick. Alas! alas! Help! help! my lady's dead! Lady Cap. Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt Ol well-a-day, that ever I was born. in your time;
Some aqua-vitæ, ho! My lord! my lady!
Enter LADY CAPULET,
Lady Cap. What noise is here?
O lamentable day! Enter three or four Serving-men, with spits, Lady Cap. What is the matter? logs, and baskets.
Lcok, look! O heavy day! Now, fellow, 13 Lady Cap. O me, O mel my child, my only What's there?
Help, help! Call help.
Nurse. She's dead, deceas'd, she's dead; And never trouble Peter for the matter. (Exit. alack the day! Cap. Mass, and well said; a merry whore- Lady Cap. Alack the day! she's dead, she's
deadl she's dead!
24 Thou shalt be logger-head. Good faith! ’tis Cap. Hal let me see her. Out, alas! she's day:
cold; The county will be here with music straight, Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff; For so he said he would. [Music within.] I hear Life and these lips have long been separated: him near.
Death lies on her like an untimely frost
Nurse. O lamentable day!
O woeful time! Go waken Juliet, go and trim her up; 25 Cap. Death, that hath ta'en her bence to I'll go and chat with Paris. Hie, make haste, make me wail, Make haste; the bridegroom he is come Ties up my tongue, and will not let me speak. 32
already: Make haste, I say.
church? Enter Nurse.
Cap. Ready to go, but never to return. Nurse. Mistress! what, mistress! Juliet! fast, O sonl the night before thy wedding-day I warrant her, she:
Hath Death lain with thy wife. There she Why, lamb! why, lady! fie, you slug-a-bed!
lies, Why, love, I sayl madaml sweet-heart! why, Flower as she was, deflowered by him. bride!
Death is my son-in-law, Death is my heir; What! not a word? you take your pennyworths My daughter he hath wedded: I will die,
4 And leave him all; life, living, all is Death's! 40 Sleep for a week; for the next night, I warrant, Par. Have I thought long to see this mornThe County Paris hath set up his rest,
ing's face, That you shall rest but little. God forgive And doth it give me such a sight as this? me,
Lady Cap. Accurs’d, unhappy, wretched, Marry, and amen, how sound is she asleep!
Most miserable hour, that e'er time saw 44 To follow this fair corse unto her grave.
The heavens do lower upon you for some ill; But one, poor one, one poor and loving child, Move them no more by crossing their high will. But one thing to rejoice and solace in,
[Exeunt CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, PARIS, And cruel death hath catch'd it from my
and Friar. sight!
48 First Mus. Faith, we may put up our pipes, Nurse. O woe! 0 woeful, woeful, woeful and be gone. day!
Nurse. Honest good fellows, ah! put up, put Most lamentable day, most woeful day, up, for, well you know, this is a pitiful case. That ever, ever, I did yet bebold!
(Exit. O day! O day! O day! O hateful day!
First Mus. Ay, by my troth, the case may be Never was seen so black a day as this:
amended. O woeful day, 0 woeful day! Par. Beguild, divorced, wronged, spited,
Enter PETER. slain! Most detestable death, by thee beguild,
Pet. Musicians! O! musicians, 'Heart's ease, By cruel cruel thee quite overthrown!
Heart's ease:' 0 an ye will have me live, play O love! O life! not life, but love in death! 'Heart's ease.' Cap. Despis’d, distressed, hated, martyr'd, First Mus. Why 'Heart's ease?' kill'd!
Pct. Ol musicians, because my heart itself Uncomfortable time, why cam'st thou now 60 plays ‘My heart is full of woe;' OI play me To murder, murder our solemnity?
some merry dump, to comfort me. O child! 0 child! my soul, and not my child! Sec. Mus. Not a dump we; 'tis no time to Dead art thou! dead! alack, my child is dead; play now. And with my child my joys are buried! 64 Pet. You will not then? Fri. L. Peace, hol for shame! confusion's Musicians. No. cure lives not
Pet. I will then give it you soundly. In these confusions. Heaven and yourself First Mus. What will you give us? Had part in this fair maid; now heaven hath all, Pet. No money, on my faith! but the gleek; And all the better is it for the maid:
68 I will give you the minstrel. Your part in her you could not keep from First Mus. Then will I give you the serving. death,
creature. But heaven keeps his part in eternal life.
Pet. Then will I lay the serving-creature's The most you sought was her promotion, dagger on your pate, I will carry no crotchets: For 'twas your heaven she should be advanc'd; I'll re you, I'll fa you. Do you note me? And weep ye now, seeing she is advanc'd
First Mus. An you re us, and fa us, you Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself?
note us. O! in this love, you love your child so ill,
Scc. Mus. Pray you, put up your dagger, That you run mad, seeing that she is well: 70 and put out your wit. She's not well married that lives married Pet. Then have at you with my wit! I will long;
dry-beat you with an iron wit, and put up my But she's best married that dies married young. iron dagger. Answer me like men:
128 Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary When griping grief the heart doth wound, On this fair corse; and, as the custom is,
And doloful dumps the mind oppress, In all her best array bear her to church;
Then music with her silver sound-For though fond nature bids us all lament, Why 'silver sound?' why 'music with her silver Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment. sound?' What say you, Simon Catling? 133
Cap. All things that we ordained festival, 84 First Mus. Marry, sir, because silver hath a Turn from their office to black funeral;
sweet sound. Our instruments to melancholy bells,
Pet. Pretty! What say you, Hugh Rebeck! Our welding cheer to a sad burial feast,
Sec. Mus. I say 'silver sound,' because mo. Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change, 88 sicians sound for silver. Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse, Pet. Pretty too! What say you, James And all things change them to the contrary. Soundpost? Fri. L. Sir, go you in; and, madam, go with Third Mus. Faith, I know not what to say. him;
Pet. O! I cry you mercy; you are the singer; And go, Sir Paris; every one prepare 92 | I will say for you. It is, 'music with her silver
I 40 56
sound,' because musicians have no gold for Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night. sounding:
145 Let's see for means: O mischief! thou art swift Then music with her silver sound
To enter in the thoughts of desperate men. 36 With speedy help doth lend redress. I do remember an apothecary,
[Exit. And hereabouts he dwells, which late I noted First Mus. What a pestilent knave is this In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows, same! 149 Culling of simples; meagre were his looks,
40 Sec. Mus. Hang him, Jack! Come, we'll in Sharp misery had worn him to the bones: here; tarry for the mourners, and stay dinner. And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,
[Exeunt. An alligator stuff'd, and other skins
Of ill-shap'd fishes; and about his shelves 44
A beggarly account of empty boxes,
Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds,
Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses,
48 Rom. If I may trust the flattering truth of Noting this penury, to myself I said sleep,
An if a man did need a poison now, My dreams presage some joyful news at hand: Whose sale is present death in Mantua, My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne; Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him. 52 And all this day an unaccustom'd spirit 4 Ol this same thought did but fore-run my need, Lifts me above the ground with cheerful And this same needy man must sell it me. thoughts.
As I remember, this should be the house: I dreamt my lady came and found me dead;- Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut. Strange dream, that gives a dead man leave to What, hol apothecary!
think,And breath'd such life with kisses in my lips,
Enter Apothecary. That I reviv'd, and was an emperor.
Who calls so loud? Ah mel how sweet is love itself possess'd,
Rom. Come hither, man. I see that thou art When but love's shadows are so rich in joy!
Hold, there is forty ducats; let me have
64 For nothing can be ill if she be well. 16 Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb.
Bal. Then she is well, and nothing can be ill; Ap. Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's Her body sleeps in Capel's monument,
law And her immortal part with angels lives. Is death to any he that utters them. I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault,
Rom. Art thou so bare, and full of wretchedAnd presently took post to tell it you.
ness, O! pardon me for bringing these ill news, And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks, Since you did leave it for my office, sir. Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes,
Rom. Is it even so? then I defy you, stars! Contempt and beggary hang upon thy back; Thou know'st my lodging: get me ink and The world is not thy friend nor the world's law: paper,
25 The world affords no law to make thee rich; 73 And hire post-horses; I will hence to-night. Then be not poor, but break it, and take this.
Bal. I do beseech you, sir, have patience: Ap. My poverty, but not my will, consents. Your looks are pale and wild, and do import 28 Rom. I pay thy poverty, and not thy will. 76 Some misadventure.
Ap. Put this in any liquid thing you will, Rom.
Tush, thou art deceiv'd; And drink it off; and, if you had the strength Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do. Of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight. Hast thou no letters to me from the friar? Rom. There is thy gold, worse poison to Bal. No, my good lord.
80 Rom. No matter; get thee gone, 32 Doing more murders in this loathsome world And hire those horse3: I'll be with thee straight. Than these poor compounds that thou mayst
[Exit BALTHASAR. not sell:
I sell thee poison, thou hast sold me none. So shall no foot upon the churchyard tread,
[Exeunt. Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee; go. 9
Page. (Aside.] I am almost afraid to stand SCENE II.-Verona. FRIAR LAURENCE'S Cell. alone
Here in the churchyard; yet I will adventure. Enter FRIAR JOHN.
[Retires. Fri. J. Holy Franciscan friar! brother, ho! Par. Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal
bed I strew, Enter FRIAR LAURENCE.
O woel thy canopy is dust and stones; Fri. L. This same should be the voice of Which with sweet water nightly I will dew, Friar John.
Or, wanting that, with tears distill'd by Welcome from Mantua: what says Romeo?
moans: Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter. 4 The obsequies that I for thee will keep
Fri. J. Going to find a bare-foot brother out, Nightly shall be to strew thy grave and weep. One of our order, to associate me,
[The Page whistles. Here in this city visiting the sick,
The boy gives warning something doth ap And finding him, the searchers of the town,
proach. Suspecting that we both were in a house What cursed foot wanders this way to-night, Where the infectious pestilence did reign, To cross my obsequies and true love's rite? Seal'd
up the doors, and would not let us forth; What! with a torch?-muffle me, night, awhile. So that my speed to Mantua there was stay'd. 12
[Retires. Fri. L. Who bare my letter then to Romeo? Fri. J. I could not send it, here it is again,
Enter ROMEO and BALTHASAR, with a torch, Nor get a messenger to bring it thee,
mattock, &c. So fearful were they of infection.
Rom. Give me that mattock, and the wrenchFri. L. Unhappy fortunel by my brother
ing iron. hood,
Hold, take this letter; early in the morning The letter was not nice, but full of charge See thou deliver it to my lord and father. Of dear import; and the neglecting it
Give me the light: upon thy life I charge thee, May do much danger. Friar John, go hence; Whate'er thou hear'st or seest, stand all aloof, Get me an iron crow, and bring it straight And do not interrupt me in my course. Unto my cell.
Why I descend into this bed of death, 28 Fri. J. Brother, I'll go and bring it thee. Is partly, to bebold my lady's face;
[Exit. But chiefly to take thence from her dead finger Fri. L Now must I to the monument A precious ring, a ring that I must use alone;
In dear employment: therefore hence, be gone: Within these three hours will fair Juliet wake: 24 But, if thou, jealous, dost return to pry She will beshrew me much that Romeo
In what I further shall intend to do, Hath had no notice of these accidents;
By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint, But I will write again to Mantua,
And strew this hungry churchyard with thy And keep her at my cell till Romeo come:
limbs. Poor living corse, clos'd in a dead man's tomb! The time and my intents are savage-wild,
[Exit. More fierce and more inexorable far
Than empty tigers or the roaring sea. SCENE III.—The Same. A Churchyard; in it
Bal. I will be gone, sir, and not trouble a Monument belonging to the CAPULETS.
Rom. So shalt thou show me friendship. Enter PARIS, and his Page, bearing flowers and Take thou that: a torch.
Live, and be prosperous; and farewell, good Par. Give me thy torch, boy: hence, and fellow. stand aloof;
Bal. [Aside.) For all this same, I'll hide me Yet put it out, for I would not be seen.
here about: Under yond yew-trees lay thee all along, His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt. Holding thine ear close to the hollow ground: 4
Rom. Thou detestable maw, thou womb of Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath, death,
Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty: Gorg'd with the dearest morsel of the earth, Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open, Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks,
[Opens the tomb. And death's pale flag is not advanced there. 96 And, in despite, I'll cram thee with more food! Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet? Par. This is that banish'd haughty Mon- 01 what more favour can I do to thee, tague,
49 Than with that hand that cut thy youth in That murder'd my love's cousin, with which twain grief
To sunder his that was thine enemy?
Forgive me, cousin! Ahl dear Juliet,
[Comes forward. And that the lean abhorred monster keeps 104 Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague, Thee here in dark to be his paramour? Can vengeance be pursu'd further than death? For fear of that I still will stay with thee, Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee: 56 And never from this palace of dim night. Obey, and go with me; for thou must die. Depart again: here, here will I remain Rom. I must, indeed; and therefore came I With worms that are thy chambermaids; 0! hither.
here Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man; Will I set up my everlasting rest, Fly hence and leave me: think upon these gone; And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, youth, From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your Put not another sin upon my head
last! By urging me to fury: Ol be gone:
Arms, take your last embracel and, lips, O you By heaven, I love thee better than myself. 64 The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss For I come hither arm'd against myself: A dateless bargain to engrossing death! Stay not, be gone; live, and hereafter say Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide! A madman's mercy bade thee run away. Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on 117 Par. I do defy thy conjurations,
68 The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark! And apprehend thee for a felon bere.
Here's to my love! [Drinks.] 0 true apothecary! Rom. Wilt thou provoke me? then have at Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die. 120 thee, boy! [They fight.
[Dies. Page. O Lord! they fight: I will go call the watch.
[Exit. Enter, at the other end of the Churchyard, Par. (Falls.] O, I am slain!-If thou be FRIAR LAURENCE, with a lanthorn, crow, merciful,
and spade. Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet. [Dies. Fri. L. Saint Francis be my speed! how oft
Rom. In faith, I will. Let me peruse this face: to-night Mercutio's kinsman, noble County Paris! Have my old feet stumbled at graves! Who's What said my man when my betossed soul 76 there? Did not attend him as we rode? I think
Bal. Here's one, a friend, and one that He told me Paris should have married Juliet: knows you well. Said he not so? or did I dream it so?
Fri. L Bliss be upon youl Tell me, good my Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet,
124 To think it was so? Ol give me thy hand, What torch is yond, that vainly lends his light One writ with me in sour misfortune's book: To grubs and eyeless skulls? as I discern, I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave;
It burneth in the Capel's monument. A grave? O, no! a lanthorn, slaughter'd youth, Bal. It doth so, holy sir; and there's my For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes 85 master, This vault a feasting presence full of light. One that you love. Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr’d, Fri. L.
Who is it? [Laying PARIS in the tomb.
Romeo. How oft when men are at the point of death 88 Fri. L. How long hath he been there? Have they been merry! which their keepers call Bal.
Full half an hour. A lightning before death: 01 how may I
Fri. L. Go with me to the vault. Call this a lightning? O my lovel my wifel
I dare not, sir.