SCENE VII.

Juliet's Chamber looking to the Garden.

Enter Romeo and Juliet, above at a window; a ladder

Jul.

of ropes fet.

ILT thou be gone? it is not yet near

WIL

day;

It was the Nightingale, and not the Lark,
That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear;
Nightly fhe fings on yon pomgranate tree:
Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.

Rom. It was the Lark, the herald of the morn,
No Nightingale. Look, love, what envious ftreaks
Do lace the fevering clouds in yonder east;
Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day
Stands tiptoe on the mifty mountains' tops.
I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
Jul. Yon light is not day-light, I know it,
It is fonie meteor that the Sun exhales,
To be to thee this night a torch-bearer,
And light thee on thy way to Mantua ;
Then stay a while, thou shalt not go fo foon.
Rom. Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death,
I am content, if thou wilt have it fo.
I'll fay, yon grey is not the morning's eye,
'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow;
Nor that is not the lark, whofe notes do beat
The vaulty heav'ns fo high above our heads.
'I have more care to ftay, than will to go.
Come death, and welcome; Juliet wills it fo.

How is't, my Soul? let's talk, it is not day.
Jul. It is, it is; hie hence, be gone, away.
It is the lark that fings fo out of tune,
Straining harsh discords, and unpleasing sharps.
Some fay, the lark makes fweet divifion;
This doth not fo: for fhe divideth us.

Some fay, the lark and loathed toad chang'd eyes;
9O, now I would they had chang❜d voices too!
Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray,
Hunting thee up with huntfup to the day.
O now be gone, more light and light it grows.
Rom. More light and light?More dark and
dark our Woes.

90, now I WOULD they had chang'd voices too!] The toad having very fine eyes, and the lark very ugly ones, was the occafion of a common faying amongst the people, that the toad and lark had changed eyes. To this the fpeaker alludes. But fure fhe need not have wished that they had changed voices too. The lark appear'd to her untunable enough in all confcience: As appears by what she said juft before,

It is the lark that fings fo out

of tune, Straining harsh difcords and

unpleafing sharps.
This directs us to the right read-
ing. For how natural was it for
her after this to add,

Some fay the lark and loathed
toad change eyes.
O, now I wor they have
chang'd voices toa.

• Since arm from arm, &c.] Thefe two lines are omitted in the modern editions, and do not deferve to be replaced, but as they may fhew the danger of critical temerity. Dr. Warburton's change of I would to I wot was fpecious enough, yet it is. evidently erroneous. The fenfe is this, The lark, they fay, has loft her eyes to the toad, and now [ would the toad had her voice too, fince he uses it to the difturbance of lovers.

Enter

Nurse. Madam,

Jul. Nurfe?

Enter Nurfe.

Nurfe. Your lady mother's coming to your cham

ber:

The day is broke, be wary, look about.

Jul. Then, Window, let Day in,
Rom. Farewel, farewel; one Kifs,

[Exit Nurfe. and let Life out.

and I'll defcend. [Romeo defcends.

Jul. Art thou gone fo? love! lord! ah hufband! friend!

I must hear from thee ev'ry day in th' hour,
For in a minute there are many days.

O' by this count I fhall be much in years,
Ere I again behold my Romeo.

Rom. Farewel: I will omit no opportunity,
That may convey my greetings, love, to thee.
Jul. O think'ft thou, we shall ever meet again?
Rom. I doubt it not; and all thefe woes fhall ferve
For fweet difcourfes, in our time to come.

Jul. O God! I have an ill divining foul. Methinks, I fee thee, now thou art below, As one dead in the bottom of a tomb : Either my eye-fight fails, or thou look'ft pale. Rom. And truft me, love, in mine eye fo do you: Dry Sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu.

SCENE

[Exit Romeo.

VIII.

Jul. Oh fortune, fortune, all men call thee fickle:

If thou art fickle, what doft thou with him
That is renown'd for faith? be fickle, fortune:

For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long,
But fend him back.

Enter Lady Capulet.

La. Cap. Ho, daughter, are you up? Jul. Who is't that calls? Is it my lady mother? Is the not down fo late, or up fo early? What unaccustom'd caufe procures her hither? La. Cap. Why, how now, Juliet ?

Jul. Madam, I am not well.

La. Cap. Evermore weeping for your coufin's death? What, wilt thou wash him from his Grave with

tears?

An' if thou couldft, thou couldft not make him live; Therefore, have done. Some Grief fhews much of

Love;

But much of Grief fhews ftill fome want of Wit.
Jul. Yet let me weep for fuch a feeling lofs..
La. Cap. So fhall you feel the Lofs, but not the
Friend

Which you do weep for.

Jul. Feeling fo the Lofs,

I cannot chufe but ever weep the Friend.

La. Cap. Well, girl, thou weep'ft not so much for his death,

As that the villain lives which flaughter'd him.
Jul. What villain, Madam?

La. Cap. That fame villain, Romeo.

Jul. [Afide.] Villain and he are many miles afunder. God pardon him! I do, with all my Heart: And, yet, no Man like he doth grieve my Heart. La. Cap. That is, because the Traitor lives. Jul. I, Madam, from the Reach of thefe my

hands

*Would, none but I might venge my Coufin's Death!

2

-procures her hither?] Procures, for brings. WARB. 31, Madam, from-] Julier's

equivocations are rather too artful for a mind difturbed by the lofs of a new lover.

La. Cap. We will have Vengeance for it, fear thou

not.

Then weep no more.

I'll fend to one in Mantua,
Where that fame banish'd Runagate doth live,
Shall give him fuch an unaccustom'd Dram,
That he shall foon keep Tybalt Company.
And then, I hope, thou wilt be fatisfy'd.
Jul. Indeed, I never shall be satisfied
With Romeo, till I behold him, dead-
Is my poor heart fo for a Kinfman vext?
Madam, if you could find out but a Man
To bear a poison, I would temper it;
That Romeo fhould upon Receipt thereof
Soon fleep in Quiet.-O, how my heart abhors
To hear him nam'd,-and cannot come to him-
To wreak the Love I bore my Coufin,
Upon his body that hath flaughter'd him.

La. Cap. Find thou the Means, and I'll find fuch a
Man.

But now I'll tell thee joyful Tidings, Girl.

Jul. And joy comes well in fuch a needful time. What are they, I beseech your ladyfhip?

La. Cap. Well, well, thou haft a careful father, child,

One, who, to put thee from thy heaviness,
Hath forted out a sudden day of joy,

That thou expect'ft not, nor I look'd not for.
Jul. Madam, ' in happy time, what day is this?
La. Cap. Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn,
The gallant, young and noble gentleman,
The County Paris, at St. Peter's church,
Shall happily make thee a joyful bride.

-unaccuftom'd Dram,] In vulgar language, Shall give him a Dram which he is not used to. Though I have, if I miftake not, obferved, that in old books unaccustomed fignifies won

derful, powerful, efficacious."

5-in bappy time,] A la bonne heure. This phrafe was inter jected, when the hearer was not quite fo well pleafed as the speaker.

G4

Jul.