To hear good counsel: O, what learning is !-
My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come.
Rom. Do fo, and bid my fweet prepare to chide.
Nurse. Here, fir, a ring she bid me give you, fir:
Hie you, make hafte, for it grows very late.
[Exit Nurfe. Rom. How well my comfort is reviv'd by this! Fri. Go hence: Good night; and here stands all your
Or by the break of day disguis'd 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:
SCENE IV.
A Room in Capulet's House.
Enter CAPULET, Lady CAPULET, and PARIS.
Cap. Things have fallen out, fir, fo unluckily,
That we have had no time to move our daughter:
Look you, she lov'd her kinfman Tybalt dearly,
And fo did I ;-well, we were born to die.-
'Tis very late, fhe'll not come down to-night:
I promise you, but for your company,
I would have been a-bed an hour ago.
Par. Thefe 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 mew'd up to her heaviness. F
Cap. Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender
Of my child's love: I think, fhe will be rul'd
In all refpects by me; nay more, I doubt it not.
Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed;
Acquaint her here of my fon Paris' love;
And bid her, mark you me, on wednesday next-
But, foft; What day is this?
Cap. Monday? ha! ha! Well, wednesday is too foon, 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 kinfman, 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.
Enter ROMEO and JULIET.
Jul. Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day: It was the nightingale, and not the lark,
'That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear:
Nightly fhe fings 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 fevering 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 day-light, I know it, I:
It is fome meteor that the fun exhales,
To be to thee this night a torch-bearer,
And light thee on thy way to Mantua :
Therefore stay yet, thou need'ft not to be gone.
Rom. Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death;
I am content, fo thou wilt have it fo.
I'll fay, yon grey is not the morning's eye,
'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow;
Nor that is not the lark, whofe 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 fo.-
How is't, my foul? let's talk, it is not day.
Jul. It is, it is, hie hence, be gone, away;
It is the lark that fings fo out of tune,
Straining harth difcords, and unpleafing sharps.
Some fay, the lark makes sweet division;
This doth not fo, for the divideth us :
Some fay, the lark and loathed toad change eyes;
O, now I would they had chang'd 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
Nurse. Madam!
Jul. Nurfe?
Nurfe. 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 kifs, and I'll defcend.
[ROMEO defcends.
Jul. Art thou gone fo? 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 fhall 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. O, think'ft thou, we shall ever meet again? Rom. I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve For fweet difcourfes in our time to come.
Jul. O God! I have an ill-divining foul :
Methinks, I fee 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 truft me, love, in my eye fo do you:
Dry forrow drinks our blood. Adieu! adieu !
Jul. O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle:
If thou art fickle, what doft thou with him
That is renown'd for faith? Be fickle, fortune;
For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long,
But fend him back.
La. Cap. [within.] Ho, daughter! are you up?
Jul. Who is't that calls? is it my lady mother?
Is the not down fo late, or up fo early?
What unaccuftom'd caufe procures her hither?
Enter Lady CAPULET.
La. Cap. Why, how now, Juliet ?
Jul.
Madam, I am not well. La. Cap. Evermore weeping for your coufin's death? What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears? An if thou could'st, thou could'st not make him live; Therefore, have done : Some grief shows much of love; But much of grief shows still some want of wit.
Jul. Yet let me weep for such a feeling lofs.
La. Cap. So fhall you feel the lofs, but not the friend Which you weep for.
I cannot choose but ever weep the friend.
La. Cap. Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his
As that the villain lives which flaughter'd him.
Jul. What villain, madam?
That fame villain, Romeo.
Jul. Villain and he are many miles afunder.
God pardon him! I do, with all my heart;
And yet no man, like he, doth grieve my heart.
La. Cap. That is, because the traitor murderer lives.
Jul. Ay, madam, from the reach of these
'Would, none but I might venge my coufin's death!
La. Cap. We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not:
Then weep no more. I'll fend to one in Mantua,-
Where that fame banish'd runagate doth live,—
That shall beftow on him fo fure a draught,
That he shall foon keep Tybalt company :
And then, I hope, thou wilt be fatisfied.
Jul. Indeed, I never fhall be fatisfied
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