I fear, it is; and yet, methinks, it fhould 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 whofe foul mouth no health fome air breathes in,
And there be ftrangled 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 thefe many hundred years, the bones
Of all my buried Anceftors 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 refort-)
Alas, alas! is it not like, that I

Só early waking, what with loathfome fmells,
And fhrieks, like mandrakes torn out of the earth,
Thatliving morta ls, hearing them, run mad.——
Or, if I wake, fhall I not be diftraught,
(Environed with all thefe hideous fears.)
And madly play with my fore-fathers' joints,
And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his faroud?
And in this rage, with fome great kinsman's bone,
As with a club, dafh out my defp'rate brains?
O look! methinks, I fee my cousin's ghoft
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 herself on the bed..

SCE

CEN NE

Changes to Capulet's Hall.

IV.

Enter Lady Capulet and Nurse.

La. Cap. OLD, take thefe keys and fetch more

H. fpices, nurfe.
H°%

Nurfe.

Nurfe. They call for dates and quinces in the pafiry. Enter Capulet.

Cap. Come, ftir, ftir, ftir, the fecond cock hath crow'd,

The curfue-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'dere now All night for a lefs caufe, and ne'er been fick.

La. Cap. Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt in your ..i time,

f

But I will watch you, from fuch watching, now. [Exeunt Lady Capulet and Nurse. Cap. A jealous-hood, a jealous-hood

Now, fellow, what's there?

Enter three or four with fpits, and logs, and bafkets.

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 never trouble Peter for the matter.

Cap. Mafs, and well faid, a merry whorefon, ha!
Thou shalt be logger-head.-good faith, 'tis day.
[Play mufic.
The County will be here with music ftraight,
For fo, he faid, he would. I hear him near.
Nurse,-wife,what, ho! what, nurse, I say?
Enter Nurfe.

Go, waken Juliet, go and trim her up,
I'll go and chat with Paris: hie, make hafte,

Make

Make hafte, the Bride-groom he is come already;

Make hafte, I say.

[Exeunt Capulet and Nurse, severally.

SCENE

V.

Chenges to Juliet's Chamber, Juliet on a bed.
Re-enter Nurse.

Nurse. MISTRESS,-what, mistress! Juliet—

warrant her,

Why, lamb-why, lady-Fie, you flug-a-bed
Why, love, I fay-Madam, fweet-heart-

bride

fweet-heart-why,

What, not a word! you take your penyworths now;
Sleep for a week; for the next night, I warrant,
The County Paris hath fet up his Reft,

That you fhall reft but little-God forgive me―
Marry, and amen!-How found is she asleep?
I muit 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 clothes-and down again?
I must 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!

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

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 feparated: Death lies on her, like an untimely frost Upon the fweeteft flow'r of all the field. Accurfed time! unfortunate old man! Nurfe. O lamentable day!

La. Cap. O woful 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 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,
Flow'r as fhe 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!

Moft miferable 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!
Moft lamentable day! moft 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, fpighted, flain, Molt deteftable Death, by Three beguil'd,

By

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'ft thou now
To murder, murder 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

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 moft, you fought, was her Promotion;
For 'twas your Heav'n, fhe fhould be advanc'd:
And weep you now, feeing the is advanc'd,
Above the Clouds, as high as Heav'n himfelf?
Oh, in this Love you love your Child fo ill,
That you run mad, feeing, that he is well.
She's not well married, that lives married long;
But fhe's beft married, that dics married young.
Dry up your Tears, and flick your Rofemary
On this fair Coarfe; and, as the Cuftom is,
And in her beft Array, bear her to Church,
For tho' fome Nature bids us all lament,
Yet Nature's Tears are Reason's Merriment.
Cap. All things, that we ordained feftival,
Turn from their Office to black Funeral;
Our Inftruments to melancholy Bells,
Our wedding Cheer to a fad Funeral Feaft;
Our folemn Hymns to fullen Dirges change,
Our bridal Flow'rs ferve for a buried Coarfe;
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 Coarfe unto her Grave.

The