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Changes to Juliet's Chamber, Juliet on a bed.

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Re-enter Nurse.
Nurse. Istress,—what, mistress? Juliet-Fast, I

warrant her.
Why, lamb—why, Lady-Fy, you sug-a-bed-
Why, love, I say -Madam-Sweet-heart--why?

Bride-
What, not a word !-You take your pennyworths

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Sleep for a week; for the next night, I warrant,
The County Paris hath set up his Rest,
That you shall rest but little-God forgive me
Marry, and amen!-How found is the asleep?
I must needs wake her. Madam, madam, madam,
Ay, let the County take you in your bed.
He'll fright you up, i'faith. Will it not be ?
What drest, and in your cloaths -and down again!
I must needs wake you: Lady, lady, lady.
Alas! alas ! help! help! my lady's dead,
O, well-a-day, that ever I was born!
Some Aqua-vitæ, Ho! my Lord, my lady!

Enter Lady Capulet.
La. Cap. What noise is here?
Nurse. O lamentable day!
La. Cap. What's the matter?
Nurse. Look, --oh heavy day!

La. Cap. Oh me, oh me, my child, my only life!
Revive, look up, or I will die with thee;
Help, help! call help.

Enter

Enter Capulet. Cap. For shame, bring Juliet forth. Her Lord is

come. Nurse. She's dead, deceas'd, she's dead. Alack the

day!
Cap. Ha! let me see her. Out, alas ! she's cold;
Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff;
Life and these lips have long been separated ;
Death lies on her, like an untimely frost
Upon the sweetest flow'r of all the field.
Accursed time! unfortunate old man !

Nurse. O lamentable day!
La. Cap. O woeful Time!
Cap. Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me

wail,
Ties up my Tongue, and will not let me speak.

Enter Friar Lawrence, and Paris with Musicians.

Fri. Come, is the bride ready to go to church?

Cap. Ready to go, but never to return. O son, the night before thy wedding-day Hath Death lain with thy wife. See, there she lies, Flow'r as she was, deflowered now by him, Death is my son-in-law.

Par. Have I thought long to see this morning's face, And doth it give me such a light as this !

La. Cap. Accurs’d, unhappy, wretched, hateful day! Most miserable hour, that Time e'er faw In lasting labour of his pilgrimage! But one, poor one, one poor and loving child, But one thing to rejoice and folace in, And cruel death hath catch'd it from my sight.

Nurse,

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Nurse. 'O woe! oh woful, woful, woful, day!
Most lamentable day! most woful day!
That ever, ever, I did yet behold. .
Oh day! oh day! oh day! oh hateful day !
Never was seen fo black a day as this.
Oh woful day, oh woful day!

Par. Beguild, divorced, wronged, spighted, Nain,
Moft detestable Death, by thee beguild,
By cruel, cruel thee quite overthrown ::
O Love, O Life, --not Life, but Love in Death!

Cap. Despis’d, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd,
Uncomfortable Time! why cam'ft thou now
To murder, murder our Solemnity?
O Child ! O Child! My Soul, and not my Child !
Dead art thou ! dead; alack ! my Child is dead;
And, with my Child, my Joys are buried.
Fri. Peace, ho, for Shame! Confusion's Cure

lives not
In these Confusions : Heaven and yourfelf
Had part in this fair Maid; now Heav'n hath all;
And all the better is it for the Maid.
Your part in her you could not keep from Death ;
But Heav'n keeps his part in eternal Life.

1

10 woe! o! woful, &c.] This Mr. Pope has curtail'd to little or speech of exclamations is not in nothing, because it has not the the edition above cited. Several fan&tion of the first old copy. other parts, unnecessary or tauto- But there was another reason : logy, are not to be found in the Certain corruptionsstarted, which faid edition, which occafions the should have required the indulging variation in this from the com- his private sense to make them inmon books.

Pope. telligible, and this was an unrea.. 2 In former editions,

sonable Jabour. As I have rePeace, lo, for frame, confufi- formed the passage above quoted, ons : Care lives not

I dare warrant, I have restored In these confusions :] This our poet's text; and a fine senspeech, though it contains good able reproof it contains against Christian doctrine, though it is immoderate grief. THEOB. perfectly in character for the Friar,

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The most, you fought, was her Promotion ;
For 'twas your Heaven, she should be advanc'd :
And weep you now, seeing she is advanc'd,
Above the Clouds, as high as Heav'n himself?
Oh, in this Love you love your Child fo ill,
That you run mad, seeing, that she is well.
She's not well married, that lives married long;
But she's best married, that dies married young.
Dry up your tears, and stick your Rosemary
On this fair Coarse ; and, as the Custom is,
And in her best Array, bear her to Church.
3 For tho' fond Nature bids us all lament,
Yet Nature's Tears are Reason's Merriment.

Cap. All Things, that we ordained festival,
Turn from their Office to black Funeral;
Our Instruments to melancholy Bells,
Our wedding Chear to a sad Funeral Feast;
Our folemn Hymns to sullen Dirges change,
Our bridal Flow'rs serve for a buried Coarse ;
And all things change them to the contrary.

Fri. Sir, go you in, and, Madam, go with him ;
And go, Sir Paris ; ev'ry one prepare
To follow this fair Coarse unto her Grave.
The Heav'ns'do low'r upon you, for some Ill ;
Move them no more, by crossing their high Will.

[Exeunt Capulet, Lady Capulet, Paris, and Friar.

3 For the fome Nature bidus ftitute an epithet, which, I fuf

all lament,] Some Nature? peet, was loit in the idle, corSure, it is the general rule of Na- rupted word, fome : and which ture, or she could not bid us all admirably quadrates with the lament. I have ventured to fub- verse fucceeding this. THEOB.

SCENE

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Muf. 'Faith, we may put up our pipes and be gone.

Nurse. Honest good fellows, ah, put up, put upi For, well you know, this is a pitiful case.

[Exit Nurse. Muf. Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended.

Enter Peter.

Pet. Musicians, oh musicians, heart's ease, beart's

ease : Oh, an you will have me live, why, play heart's ease.

Muf. Why, beart's ease?

Pet. O musicians, because my heart itself plays, my heart itself is full of woe. +0, play me some merry dump, to comfort me!

Muf. Not a dump we, 'tis no time to play now.
Pet. You will not then?
Muf. No.
Pet. I will then give it you foundly,
Muf. What will you give us ?

Pet. No mony, on my faith, but the gleek. I will give you the Minstrel.

Muf. Then will I give you the Serving Creature.

Pet. Then will I lay the Serving Creature's Dagger on your Pate. I will carry no Crotchets. I'll re you, I'll fa you, do you note me?

Muf. An you re us, and fa us, you note us.

2 Muf. Pray you, put up your dagger, and put out your wit.

+0, play me some merry dum, folio, but the answer plainly reto comfort me !] This is not in the quires it.

Pel,

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