Digressing from the valor of a man ;

Thy dear love, sworn, but hollow perjury,

Killing that love which thou hast vowed to cherish;
Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love,
Misshapen in the conduct of them both,
Like powder in a skilless soldier's flask,1
Is set on fire by thine own ignorance,

And thou dismembered with thine own defence.2
What, rouse thee, man! thy Juliet is alive,
For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead;
There art thou happy. Tybalt would kill thee,
But thou slew'st Tybalt; there art thou happy too.
The law, that threatened death, becomes thy friend,
And turns it to exile; there art thou happy.
A pack of blessings lights upon thy back;
Happiness courts thee in her best array;
But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench,
Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love.
Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable.
Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed,
Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her;
But look thou stay not till the watch be set,
For then thou canst not pass to Mantua;
Where thou shalt live, till we can find a time
To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends,
Beg pardon of the prince, and call thee back
With twenty hundred thousand times more joy
Than thou went'st forth in lamentation.—
Go before, nurse; commend me to thy lady;
And bid her hasten all the house to bed,
Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto.
Romeo is coming.3

Nurse. O Lord, I could have staid here all the night,

1 To understand the force of this allusion, it should be remembered, that the ancient English soldiers, using match-locks, instead of locks with flints, as at present, were obliged to carry a lighted match hanging at their belts, very near to the wooden flask in which they carried their powder.

2 And thou torn to pieces with thine own weapons.

3 Much of this speech has also been added since the first edition.

To hear good counsel. O, what learning is!-
My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come.

Rom. Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide. Nurse. Here, sir, a ring she bade me give you, sir. Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late.

[Exit Nurse. Rom. How well my comfort is revived by this! Fri. Go hence; good night! and here stands all

your state;

Either be gone before the watch be set,

Or by the break of day, disguised from hence.
Sojourn in Mantua; I'll find out your man,
And he shall signify from time to time
Every good hap to you, that chances here.
Give me thy hand; 'tis late: farewell; good night.
Rom. But that a joy past joy calls out on me,

It were a grief, so brief to part with thee.
Farewell.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. A Room in Capulet's House.

Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and PARIS.
Cap. Things have fallen out, sir, so unluckily,
That we have had no time to move our daughter.
Look you, she loved her kinsman Tybalt dearly,
And so did I ;-Well, we were born to die.-
'Tis very late; she'll not come down to-night.
I promise you, but for your company,

I would have been abed an hour ago.

Par. These times of woe afford no time to woo. Madam, good night; commend me to your daughter. La. Cap. I will, and know her mind early to-morrow; To-night she's mewed up to her heaviness.

Cap. Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender Of my child's love. I think she will be ruled

1 The whole of your fortune depends on this.
2 Desperate means only bold, adventurous.

In all respects by me; nay more, I doubt it not.
Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed;
Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love;

And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next-
But, soft; what day is this?

Par.

Monday, my lord. Cap. Monday? ha! ha! Well, Wednesday is too

soon;

O' Thursday let it be ;-O' Thursday, tell her,
She shall be married to this noble earl.-
Will you be ready? Do you like this haste?
We'll keep no great ado;-a friend or two.-
For hark you, Tybalt being slain so late,
It may be thought we held him carelessly,
Being our kinsman, if we revel much;

Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends,
And there an end. But what say you to Thursday?
Par. My lord, I would that Thursday were to

morrow.

Cap. Well, get you gone:-O'Thursday be it, then.Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed,

Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day.-
Farewell, my lord.-Light to my chamber, ho!
Afore me. It is so very late, that we

May call it early, by and by.-Good night.1 [Exeunt.

SCENE V. Juliet's Chamber.2

Enter ROMEO and JULIET.

Jul. Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day.

It was the nightingale, and not the lark,

That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear;

1 The latter part of this scene is a good deal varied from the first quarto.

2 The stage direction in the first edition is, "Enter Romeo and Juliet at a window;" in the second quarto, "Enter Romeo and Juliet aloft." They appeared, probably, in the balcony which was erected on the old English stage.

Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree.
Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.

Rom. It was the lark, the herald of the morn,
No nightingale; look, love, what envious streaks
Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east.
Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops;
I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
Jul. Yon light is not daylight, I know it, I.
It is some meteor that the sun exhales,
To be to thee this night a torch-bearer,
And light thee on thy way to Mantua.
Therefore stay yet, thou need'st not to be gone.'
Rom. Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death;
I am content, so thou wilt have it so.
I'll say yon gray is not the morning's eye,
'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow;
Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat
The vaulty heaven so high above our heads;
I have more care to stay, than will to go.-
Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so.-
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 sings so out of tune,
Straining harsh discords, and unpleasing sharps.
Some say the lark makes sweet division; 2
This doth not so, for she divideth us.

1 The quarto, 1597, reads:

"Then stay awhile, thou shalt not go [so] soon."

The succeeding speech, I think (says Mr. Boswell), is better in the same copy:

"Let me stay here, let me be ta'en, and die;
If thou wilt have it so, I am content.
I'll say yon gray is not the morning's eye,
It is the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow;
I'll say it is the nightingale that beats
The vaulty heaven so far above our heads,
And not the lark, the messenger of morn;
Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so-
What says my love? let's talk, 'tis not yet day."

2 A division, in music, is a variation in melody upon some given fundamental harmony.

Some say the lark and loathed toad change eyes;1
O, now I would they had changed voices too!
Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray,
Hunting thee hence with hunts-up to the day.
O, now be gone; more light and light it grows.
Rom. More light and light?-more dark and dark

our woes.

Enter Nurse.

Nurse. Madam!

Jul. Nurse?

Nurse. Your lady mother's coming to your chamber. The day is broke; be wary, look about.

[Exit Nurse. Jul. Then, window, let day in, and let life out. Rom. Farewell, farewell! one kiss, and I'll descend. [ROMEO descends. Jul. Art thou gone so? my love! my lord! my

friend!

I must hear from thee every day i' the hour,
For in a minute there are many days.
O! by this count I shall be much in years,
Ere I again behold my Romeo.

Rom. Farewell! I will omit no opportunity
That may convey my greetings, love, to thee.

Jul. Ŏ, think'st thou we shall ever meet again? Rom. I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve For sweet discourses in our time to come.

Jul. O God! I have an ill-divining soul. Methinks I see thee, now thou art below, As one dead in the bottom of a tomb. Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale. Rom. And trust me, love, in my eye so do you; Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu! adieu! [Exit ROMEO.

Jul. O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle :

1 The toad having very fine eyes, and the lark very ugly ones, was the occasion of a common saying, that the toad and the lark had changed eyes. 2 The hunt's up was originally a tune played to wake sportsmen, and call them together. It was a common burden of hunting-ballads.