Get thee to bed and reft, for thou haft need. Jul. Farewel again! [Exeunt. God knows, when we fhall meet I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins, I'll call them back again to comfort me. My dismal scene I needs must act alone: Come, vial-What if this mixture do not work at all? Shall I of force be marry'd to the Count? No, no, this shall forbid it; lye thou there [Pointing to a dagger. Comes to redeem me? there's a fearful point! To whose foul mouth no healthfome air breathes in, Or, if I live, is it not very like, The horrible conceit of death and night, Where, for these many hundred years, the bones So early waking, what with loathfome smells, D 4 And And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud? [She throws her felf on the bed. SCENE changes to Capulet's Hall. La. Cap. Enter Lady Capulet and Nurse. TOLD, take these keys and fetch more fpices, nurfe. Nurfe. They call for dates and quinces in the pastry. Enter Capulet. Cap. Come, ftir, ftir, ftir, the fecond cock hath crow'd, The curphew-bell hath rung, 'tis three o'clock: Nurfe. Go, go, you cot-quean, go; Get you to bed; faith, you'll be fick to morrow, Cap. No, not a whit: what, I have watch'd ere now All night for a lefs caufe, and ne'er been fick. La. Cap. Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt in your time, But I will watch you, from fuch watching, now. [Exe. 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 hafte, make hafte; Sirrah, fetch drier logs, Call Peter, he will fhew thee where they are. Ser. I have a head, Sir, that will find out logs, And And never trouble Peter for the matter. Cap. 'Mafs, and well faid, a merry horfon, ha! Thou shalt be logger-head. good faith, 'tis day. [Play mufick. The County will be here with mufick ftraight, Go, waken Juliet, go and trim her up, I'll go and chat with Paris: hie, make haste, SCENE changes to Juliet's Chamber, Juliet Nurse. MI on a bed. Re-enter Nurse. Iftrefs, what, miftrefs! Juliet-Faft, Why, lamb-why, lady-Fie, you flug-a-bed Why, love, I fay - Madam, fweet-heart-why, bride— That you fhall reft but little Marry, and amen! God forgive me I must needs wake her: Madam, madam, madam, and down again! I muft needs wake you: Lady, lady, lady La. Cap. What noife is here? D 5 La. Cap. La. Cap. What's the matter? Nurfe. 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 Capulet. Cap. For fhame, bring Juliet forth; her lord is come. Nurfe. She's dead, deceas'd, fhe's dead: alack the day! Cap. Ha! let me fee her Out, alas! fhe's cold; Her blood is fettled, and her joints are ftiff; La. Cap. O woeful Time! Cap. Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail, Tyes up my Tongue, and will not let me fpeak. Enter Friar Lawrence, and Paris with Muficians. O fon, the night before thy wedding-day Death is my fon-in-law. · Par. Have I thought long to fee this morning's face, And doth it give me fuch a fight as this! La. Cap. Accurs'd, unhappy, wretched, hateful day! Most miserable hour, that Time e'er faw In lafting 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 fight. That ever, ever, I did yet behold. Oh day! oh day! oh day! oh hateful day! Never was feen fo black a day as this: Par. Beguil'd, divorced, wronged, spighted, flain, Moft deteftable Death, by Thee beguil'd, By cruel, cruel Thee quite over-thrown ; O Love, O Life, not Life, but Love in Death! O Child! O Child! My Soul, and not my Child! Fri. Peace, ho, for Shame! Confufion's Cure lives not (13) In these Confufions: Heaven and Yourself Had Part in this fair Maid; now Heav'n hath All; Your Part in her you could not keep from Death; (13) Peace ho for shame, confufions: Care lives not in thefe Confufions,] This Speech, tho' it contains good Chriftian Doctrine, tho' it is perfectly in Character for the Friar, and not the most defpicable for its Poetry, Mr. Pope has curtail'd to little or nothing, becaufe it has not the Sanction of the first old Copy. By the fame Rule, had he purfued it throughout, we might have loft fome of the fineft additional Strokes in the two Parts of K. Henry IV. But there was another Reafon, I fufpect, for curtailing: Certain Corruptions started, which should have requir'd the indulging his private Senfe to make them intelligible, and this was an unreasonable Labour. As I have reform'd the Paffage above quoted, I dare warrant. I have reftor'd our Poet's Text; and a fine fenfible Reproof it contains against immoderate Grief: for the Friar begins with telling them, that the Cure of thofe Confufions, into which the melancholy Accident had thrown 'em, did not live in the confus'd and inordinate Exclamations which they exprefs'd on that Account, |