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Alack, alack! is it not like that I
So early waking, what with loathsome smells,
And Irieks like Mandrakes torn out of the Earth,
That living Mortals, hearing them, run mad
Or if I walk, shall I not be distraught,
Invironed with all these hideous Fears,
And madly play with my Fore-fathers Joints,
And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his Shroud?
And in this Rage, with some great Kinsman's Bone,
As with a Club, dash out my desperate Brains
O look! methinks I see my Cousin's Ghost,
Seeking out Romeo, that did spit bis Body
Upon his Rapier's Point: Stay, Tybalt stay!
Romeo! Romeo! Romeo! here's drink---I drink to thee. [Exit
SCENE IV. A Hall,
Enter Lady Capulet and Nurse.
La. Cap. Hold,
Take these Keys and fetch more Spices, Nurse.
Nur. They call for Dates and Quinces in the Pastry.
Cap. Come, ftir, stir, stir,
The second Cock hath crow'd,
The Curphew Bell hath rung, 'tis three a Clock:
Look to the bakd Meats, good Angelica.
Spare not for coft.
Nær. Go, you Cot-quean, go ;
to Bed; faith you'll be fick to morrow
For this Night's Watching.
Cap. No not a whit, I have watch'd e'er now
All Night for a less Cause, and ne'er been fick.
La. Cap. Ay, you have been a Mouse-hunt, in
But I will watch you, from such watching, now!
[Ex. Lady Capulet and Nurse.
Cap. A jealous-hood, a jealous-hood
Now, Fellow, what's there?
Enter three or four with Spits, and Logs, and Baskets.
Ser. Things for the Cook, Sir, but I know not what.
Cap. Make halte, make hafte, Sirrah, fetch drier Logs.
Call Peter, he will new thee where they are,
Ser. I have a Head, Sir, that will find out Logs,
And never trouble Peter for the matter.
Cap. Mass and well said, a merry Hofon, ha!
Thou shalt be Logger-head. - good Faith, 'tis Day.
The County will be here with Musick straight,
For fo he faid he would. I hear him near.
Nurse, Wife, what ho? What, Nurse, I say?
Go waken Juliet, go and trim her up,
I'll go and cha with Paris: Hie; make hafte,
Make hafte, I fiy
SCENE draws and discovers Juliet on a Bed.
Nur. Mistress, what Mistress! Juliet! Fast I war-
Why Lamb--why Lady-Fie you slug-a-bed
Why Love, I say---Madam, Sweet-heart...Why Bride
What, not a Word! You take your Pennyworths now;
Sleep for a week; for the next Night I warranty
The County Paris hath set up his rest,
That you should rest but little--God forgive me-
Marry and Amen-How sound is the alleep?
I must needs wake her: Madam, Madam, Madam,
Ay, let the County take you in your Bed-
He'll fright you up y faith. Will it not be ?
What drest, and in your Cloaths.... and down again!
I must needs awake you: Lady, Lady, Lady
Alas! alas! help! help! my Lady's dead.
O well-a-day, that ever I was born!
Some Aqua-vite 10! my Lord, my Lady!
Enter Lady Capulet.
La. Cap. What Noise is here?
Nur. O lamentable Day!
La.Cap. Wost is the matter?
Nur. Look, look----oh heavy Day!
La. Cap. O me, o me, my Child, my only Life!
Revive, look up, or I will die with thee:
Help, help, call help.
Cap. For shame bring Juliet forth, her Lord is come.
Nur. She's dead, Deccalt, she's dead: Alack the Day.
La. Cap. Alack the Day, she's dead, she's dead, she's dead.
Cap. Ha ! Let me fve her---Out alas, she's cold,
Her Blood is lettied, and her Joints a'e stiff,
Life and these Lips have long been separated:
Death lies on her, like an untimely Frost
Upon the sweetest Fower of the field.
Nur. O lamentable Day!
La. Cap. O woful time!
Cap. Death, that hath ta’en her hence to make me wail,
Ties up my Tongue, and will not lue me sp ak.
Enter Friar Lawrence, and Paris.
Fri. Come, is the Bride ready to go to Church?
Cap, Ready to go, but never to returo.
O Son, the Night before thy Wedding-day,
Hath Death lain with thy Wife: See, there the lies,
Flower as she was, Deflower'd now by him:
Death is my Son-in-Law, Death is my Heir,
My Daughter he hath wedded. I wil die,
And leave him all, Life, living, all is Death's,
Par. Have I thought lorg to see this Morning's Face,
And doth it give me such a fight as this?
La, Cap. Accurst, unhappy, wretched, hateful Day,
Most miserable Hour, that time e'er saw
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 háth catch it from my fight.
Nur. O wo! O woful, woful, woful Day!
Most lamentable Day! most woful Day!
That ever, ever, I did yet behold,
O Day! O Day! O Day! O hateful Day!
Never was fien so black a Day as this:
0 woful Day! 0 woful Day !
Par. Beguild, divorced, wronged, spighted, flain!
Molt detestable Death, by thee beguild,
By cruel, cruel thee guire overthrown-
O Love! O Life! not Life, but Love in Death.
Cap. Despis’d, distressed, hated, martyrd, kill'das.
Uncomfortable time, why cam'st hou now
To murther, mother our S lem iry.
Child! @ Child! my Soul, and not my Child!
Dead art thou
-alack my Child is dead, And with my Child, my Joys are buried.
Fri. Peace ho for share-Confusions Care lives not
In these Confusions. Heav'n and
Heav'n and your self
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,
Bur Heav'n keeps his part in eternal Life :
The most you fought was her Promotion,
For 'twas your Heav’n that she should be advanc’d;
And weep ye now, seeing she is advanc'a
Above the Clouds, as high as Heav'n it self?
O in this love, you love your Child so ill,
That you run mad, fceing that she is well.
She's not well Married that lives married long,
But she's best Married that dyes married young.
Dry up your Tears, and stick your Rosemary
On this fair Coarse, and as the Custom is,
All in her best Array, bear her to Church:
For tho' fond Nature bids us all lament,
Yet Nature's Tears are Rcason's Merriment.
Cap. All things that we ordained Festival,
Turn from their office to black Funeral:
Our Instruments, to melancholly Bells;
Our Wedding Chear, to a sad burial Feast;
Our solemn Hymns, to fullen Dirges ehange;
Our Bridal Flowers, serve for a buried Coarse;
And all things change them to the conttrary.
Fri. Sir, go you in, and Madam, go with him,
And go, Sir Paris, every one prepare
To follow this fair Coarle unto her Grave.
The Heav'ns do lowre upon you for fome ill:
Move them no more, by crossing their high Will: [Exérint.
Mu. Faith we may put up our Pipes and be gone.
Nur. Honest good Fellows: Ah, put up, put up,
For well you know this is a pitiful Case.
Mu. Ay, by my Troth, the Case may be amended.
Pet. Musicians: Oh Muficians,
Heart's ease, Heart's ease;
Oh, and you will have me live, play Heart's ease.
Mu. Why Heart's ease?
Pet. O Musicians,
Beca se my Heart it self plays, my Heart is full.
Mn. Nor a dump we, 'tis no time to play now,
Pet. You will not then?
Pet. I will then give it you foundly.
Mu. What will you give us?
Pet. No Mony on my Faith, but the Gleek.
I will give you the Ministrel.
Mu. Then I will give you the Serving Creature.
Pet, Then will I lay the serving Creature's Dagger on your Pate. I will carry no Crotchers, I'll Re you, I'll Fa you, do you Note me. Mu. And you Re us, and Fa us, you Note us.
2 Mn. Pray you put up your Dagger, And put out your Wit. Then have at you with my Wit.
Pet. I will dry-beat you with an Iron Wit, And put up my Iron Dagger. Answer me like Men: When griping Griefs the Heart doth wound Then Mufick with her Silver found Why Silver sound? Why Musick with her Silver found What say you, Simen Catling?
Mu. Marry, Sir, because Silver hith a sweet sound, Pet. Pratest? what say you, Hugh Rebeck? 2 Mu. I say Silver sourd, because Muficians found for Sil: Pet. Pratest too? what say you, James Sound. Poft? (ver, 3 Mu. Faith I know not what to say.
Pet. O I cry you mercy, you are the Singer. I will say for you, it is Mufick with her Silver sound, Because Musicians have no Gold for sounding: Then Musick with her Silver found, with speedy help doth lend redress.
[Exit. Mn. What a pestilent Knave is this same?
2 Mu. Hang him, Jack, come, we'll in here, tarry for the Mourners, and Nay Dinner.