Puslapio vaizdai

Alack, alack! is it not like that I
So early waking, what with loathsome smells;
And thrieks 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 his Body
Upon his Rapier's Point: Stay, Tybalt stay!
Romeo! Romeo! Romeo ! here's drink.--. Idrink to thee.[Exit.


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,

Enter Capulet.
Cap. Come, stir, stir, stir,
The second Cock hath crow'd,
The Curphew Bell hath rung, 'tis three a Clock :
Look to the bak'd Meats, good Angelica.
Spare not for coft.

Nur. 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, I have watch'd e'er now
All Night for a lefs Cause, and ne'er been fick.

La. Cap. Ay, you have been a Mouse-hunt, in your time, But I will watch you, from such watching, now.

[Exit 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 haste, make haste; Sirrah, fetch drier Logs.
Call Peter, he will shew thee where they are.

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on a Bed.


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 Horson, ha ! Thou shalt be Logger-head good Faith, 'tis Day.

[Play Musicke
The County will be here with Musick straight,
For so he said 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 haste, I say.

[Exit Capulet. SCENE draws and discovers Juliet Nur. Mistress, what Mistress ! Juliet !

Fast I war-
rant her.
Why Lamb why Lady Fie you flug-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 warrant,
The County Paris hath fet up his rest,

should rest but little God forgive me
Marry and Amen - How found is she asleep? ?
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.
Oh well-a-day, that ever. I was born!
Some Aqua-vite ho! my Lord, my Lady!


Enter Lady Capulet.
La. Cap. What Noise is hake?
Nur. O lamentable Day!
La. Cap. What is the matter?
Nur. Look, look oh heavy Day!

La. Cap. Ome, O me, my Child, my only Life!
Revive, look up, or I will die with thee :
Help, help, call help.

Enter Capulet.
Cap. For shame bring Juliet forth, her Lord is come.
Nur. She's dead, Deceast, she's dead: Alack the Day.


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La. Cap. Alack the Day, she's dead, she's dead, she's dead.

Cap. Ha! Let me fee herOut alas, the'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 Flower of the Field.

Nur. O lamentable Day!
La. Cap. O wofal 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.
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,
Flower as the was, Diflower'd now by him :
Death is my Son-in-Law, Death is my Heir,
My Daughter he hath wedded. I will dye,
And leave him all, Life, living, all is Death's.

Par. Have I thought long to see this Morning's Face,
And doth it give me such a light as this?

La. Cap. Accurft, unhappy, wretched, hateful Day,
Most miserable Hour, that e'er time law
In lasting Labour of his Pilgrimage.
Butone, poor one, one poor and loving Child,
But one thing to rejoice and folace in,
And cruel Death hath catcht it from my sight.

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 seen fo black a Day as this:
O woful Day! O woful Day!

Par. Beguild, divorced, wronged, spighted, Nain!
Most dereltable 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'st thou now
To murther, murther our Solemnity?
O Child! O Child! my Soul, and not my Child! !



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Dead art thoualack my Child is dead,
And with my Child, my Joys are buried.

Fri. Peace ho for fhame-Confusions? Care lives not
In these Confusions. Heaven and your self
Had part in this fair Maid, now Heaven hath all,
And all the better is it for the Maid:
Your part in her, you could not keep from Death,
But Heaven keeps his part in eternal Life:
The most you fought was her Promotion,
For 'twas your Heaven that she should be advanc'd ;
And weep ye now, seeing she is advanc'd
Above the Clouds, as high as Heaven it self?

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 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 all us 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 melancholly Bells ;
Our wedding Chear, to a sad burial Feast;
Our solemn Hymns, to sullen Dirges change';
Our Bridal Flowers, 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, every one prepare
To follow this fair Coarse unto her Grave.
The Heavens do lowre upon you for fome ill :
Move them no more, by crossing their high Will. [Exeunt,

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,

Enter Peter.
Pet. Muficians: Oh Musicians,
Heart's ease, Heart's ease;
Oh, and you will have me liye, play Heart's ease.



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M4. Why Heart's ease?

Pet. O Musicians,
Because my Heart it self plays, my Heart is full.

Mu. Not a dump we, 'tis no time to play now.
Pet. You will not then ?
Mu. No.
Pet. I will then give it you foundly,
M4. What will you give us ?

Pet. No Mony on my Faith, but the Gleeķ.
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 Crotchets, I'll Re you, I'll Fa you, do you Note me?

Mu. And you Re us, and Fa us, you Ņote us.

1 Mu. 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 found? Why Musick with her Silver found?
What say you, Simon Catling :

Mu. Marry, Sir, because Silver hath a sweet sound.
Pet. Pratest? what say you,{Hugh Rebeck?
2 . I say Şilver sound, because Musicians found for Sil-
Pet. Pratest too? whạt say you, James Sound-Poft? (ver.
3 M4. 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 found, Because Musicians have no Gold for founding: Then Mufick with her Silver sound, with speedy help doth lend redrefs.

Exit. Mu. What a pestilent Knave is this fame?

2 Mu. Hang him, Jack, come, we'll in here, tarry for the Mourners, and stay Dinner.


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