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,
That almost freezes up the heat of life.

I'll call them back again to comfort me.
Nurfe what should fhe do here?

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.
What if it be a poifon, which the Friar
Subtly hath miniftred, to have me dead,
Left in this marriage he should be dishonour'd,
Because he married me before to Romeo?
I fear, it is; and yet, methinks, it should not,
For he hath ftill been tried a holy man.-
How, if, when I am laid into the tomb,
I wake before the time that Romeo

Comes to redeem me? there's a fearful point!
Shall I not then be ftifled in the vault,

To whose foul mouth no healthfome air breathes in,
And there be strangled ere my Romeo comes?

Or, if I live, is it not very like,

The horrible conceit of death and night,
Together with the terror of the place,
(As in a vault, an ancient receptacle,

Where, for these many hundred years, the bones
Of all my buried Ancestors are packt;
Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth,
Lies feftring in his fhroud; where, as they fay,
At fome hours in the night fpirits resort
Alas, alas! is it not like, that I

So early waking, what with loathfome smells,
And fhrieks, like mandrakes torn out of the earth,
That living mortals, hearing them, run mad.
Or, if I wake, fhall I not be diftraught,
(Invironed with all these hideous fears,)
And madly play with my fore-fathers joints,

D 4

And

And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud?
And in this rage, with fome great kinfman's bone,
As with a club, dafh out my defp'rate brains?
O look! methinks, I fee my cousin's ghost
Seeking out Romeo, that did fpit his Body
Upon a Rapier's Point. Stay, Tybalt, ftay!
Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee.

[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:
Look to the bak'd Meats, good Angelica.
Spare not for Coft.

Nurfe. Go, go, you cot-quean, go;

Get you to bed; faith, you'll be fick to morrow,
For this night's watching.

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,
For fo, he faid, he would. I hear him near.
Nurse, - wife,-what, ho! what, nurse, I say?
Enter Nurse.

Go, waken Juliet, go and trim her up,

I'll go and chat with Paris: hie, make haste,
Make hafte, the Bride-groom he is come already;
Make hafte, I fay. [Ex. Capulet and Nurfe, feverally.

SCENE changes to Juliet's Chamber, Juliet

Nurse. MI
Μ

on a bed.

Re-enter Nurse.

Iftrefs, what, miftrefs! Juliet-Faft,
I warrant her,

Why, lamb-why, lady-Fie, you flug-a-bed

Why, love, I fay - Madam, fweet-heart-why, bride—
What, not a word! you take your pennyworths now;
Sleep for a week; for the next night, I warrant,
The County Paris hath fet up his Rest,

That you fhall reft but little

Marry, and amen!

God forgive me
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 dreft, and in your cloaths

and down again!

I muft 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 vita, ho! my lord, my lady!
Enter Lady Capulet.

La. Cap. What noife is here?
Nurfe. O lamentable day!

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;
Life and thefe lips have long been separated:
Death lies on her, like an untimely frost
Upon the sweetest flow'r of all the field.
Accurfed time! unfortunate old man!
Nurfe. O lamentable day!

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.
Fri. Come, is the bride ready to go to church?
Cap. Ready to go, but never to return.

O fon, the night before thy wedding-day
Hath Death lain with thy wife: fee, there fhe lies,
Flower as she was, deflower'd now by him :

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.
Nurfe. 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 feen fo black a day as this:
Oh woful day, oh woful day!

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!
Cap. Defpis'd, diftreffed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd,
Uncomfortable Time! why cam'st thou now
To murther, murther 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! Confufion's Cure lives not (13)

In these Confufions: Heaven and Yourself

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.
The most, you fought, was her Promotion;
For 'twas your Heaven, fhe fhould be advanc'd:
And weep you now, feeing fhe is advanc'd,

(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,