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O woful time!
Death lies on her, like an untimely frost
the night before thy wedding day Hath death lain with thy bride :-See, there she lies, Flower as she was, deflowered by him.
Death is my son-in-law, death is my heir;
And doth it give me such a sight as this?
La. Cap. Accurs'd, unhappy, wretched, hateful day!
Most miserable hour, that e'er time saw
Par. Begail'd, divorced, wronged, spited, slain!
O love! O life!-not life, but love in death!
Uncomfortable time! why cam'st thou now
O child! O child!-my soul, and not my child!-
Fri. Peace, ho, for shame! confusion's cure lives In these confusions. Heaven and yourself 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 sought was-her promotion; For 'twas your heaven she should be advanc'd: And weep ye now, seeing she is advanc'd, Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself? O, in this love, you love your child so 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 dies married young. Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary On this fair corse; and, as the custom is, In all her best array bear her to church: For though fond nature bids us all 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 melancholy bells; Our wedding cheer, to a sad burial feast; Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change; Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse, 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 corse unto her grave: The heavens do low'r upon you, for some ill; Move them no more, by crossing their high will. [Exeunt Capulet, Lady Capulet, Paris, and Friar. 1 Mus. 'Faith, we may put up our pipes, and be gone.
Nurse. Honest good fellows, ah, put up, put up; For, well you know, this is a pitiful case. [Exit.
1 Mus. Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended. Enter PETER.
Pet. Musicians, O musicians, Heart's ease, heart's ease: O, an you will have me live, play-heart's ease. 1 Mus. Why heart's ease?
Pet. O, musicians, because my heart itself plays -My heart is full of woe: O, play me some merry dump, to comfort me.
2 Mus. Not a dump we; 'tis no time to play now. Pet. You will not then?
Pet. I will then give it you soundly.
1 Mus. What will you give us?
Pet. No money, on my faith; but the gleek; I will give you the minstrel.
1 Mus. Then will I 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?
I Mus. An you re us, and fa us, you note us. 2 Mus. Pray you, put up your dagger, and put out your wit.
Pet. Then have at you with my wit; I will drybeat you with an iron wit, and put up my iron dagger: Answer me like men:
When griping grief the heart doth wound,
Why, silver sound? why, music with her silver sound?
[sound. 1 Mus. Marry, sir, because silver bath a sweet Pet. Pretty! What say you, Hugh Rebeck? 2 Mus. I say-silver sound, because musicians sound for silver. [post? Pet. Pretty too! What say you, James Sound3 Mus. 'Faith, I know not what to say.
Pet. O, I cry you mercy! you are the singer: I
will say for you. It is music with her silver sound,
because such fellows as you have seldom gold for sounding: :
Then music, with her silver sound, With speedy help doth lend redress. [Exit singing. 1 Mus. What a pestilent knave is this same? 2 Mus. Hang him, Jack! Come, we'll in here; tarry for the mourners, and stay dinner. [Exeunt. ACT V.
SCENE I.-Mantua. A Street.
Rom. If I may trust the flattering eye of sleep, My dreams presage some joyful news at hand: My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne; And, all this day, an unaccustom'd spirit Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts. I dreamt, my lady came and found me dead; (Strange dream! that gives a dead man leave to
And breath'd such life with kisses in my lips,
News from Verona!-How now, Balthasar?
Bal. Then she is well, and nothing can be ill;
Rom. Is it even so? then I defy you, stars!Thou know'st my lodging: get me ink and paper, And hire post-horses; I will hence to-night.
Bal. Pardon me, sir, I will not leave you thus:
Your looks are pale and wild, and do import Some misadventure.
Tush, thou art deceiv'd;
And hereabouts he dwells,-whom late I noted
Who calls so loud?
Ap. Rom. Come hither, man.-I see that thou art poor; Hold, there is forty ducats: let me have A dram of poison; such soon-speeding geer As will disperse itself through all the veins, That the life-weary taker may fall dead; And that the trunk may be discharg'd of breath As violently, as hasty powder fir'd Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb. Ap. Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's law Is death, to any he that utters them. Rom. Art thou so bare, and full of wretchedness, And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks, Need and oppression starveth in thy eyes, Upon thy back hangs ragged misery, The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law: The world affords no law to make thee rich; Then be not poor, but break it, and take this.
Ap. My poverty, but not my will, consents. Rom. I pay thy poverty, and not thy will. Ap. Put this in any liquid thing you will, And drink it off; and, if you had the strength Of twenty men, it would despatch you straight. Rom. There is thy gold; worse poison to men's souls,
Doing more murders in this loathsome world,
I sell thee poison, thou hast sold me none.
John. Going to find a bare-foot brother out,
And finding him, the searchers of the town,
Suspecting that we both were in a boase
Lau. Unhappy fortune! by my brotherhood,
John. Brother, I'll go and bring it thee. [Est. Lau. Now must I to the monument alone; Within this three hours will fair Juliet wake; She will beshrew me much, that Romeo Hath had no notice of these accidents : But I will write again to Mantua, And keep her at my cell till Romeo come; Poor living corse, clos'd in a dead man's tomb!
SCENE III-A Church-Yard; in it, a Monument belonging to the Capulets.
Enter PARIS, and his Page, bearing flowers, and torch.
Par. Give me thy torch, boy: Hence, and stand aloof;
Yet put it out, for I would not be seen.
Par. Sweet flower, with flowers I strew thy he dal bed:
Sweet tomb, that in thy circuit dost contain
Fair Juliet, that with angels dost remain,
Enter ROMEO and BALTHASAR with a torch,
mattock, &c. Rom. Give me that mattock, and the wrenchin, iron.
Hold, take this letter; early in the morning
But, chiefly, to take thence from her dead finger
Bal. I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you. Rom. So shalt thou shew me friendship.—Tak: thou that:
Live, and be prosperous; and farewell, good fell"
Bal. For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout; His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt. (Retires.) Rom. Thou détestable maw, thou womb of death, Gorg'd with the dearest morsel of the earth, Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open,
(Breaking open the door of the monument.)
Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague;
Rom. I must indeed, and therefore came I hither.—
Rom. Wilt thou provoke me? then have at thee, boy.
(They fight.) Page. O lord! they fight: I will go call the
Par. O, I am slain! (Falls.)-If thou be merciful,
Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet.
Rom. In faith, I will:-Let me peruse this face;
Than with that hand, that cut thy youth in twain,
Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide!
Enter, at the other end of the church-yard, Friar LAURENCE, with a lantern, crow, and spade. Fri. Saint Francis be my speed! how oft tonight [there? Have my old feet stumbled at graves!-Who's Who is it, that consorts, so late, the dead?
Bal. Here's one, a friend, and one that knows
Fri. Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend, What torch is yond', that vainly lends his light To grubs and eyeless skulls? as I discern, It burneth in the Capels' monument.
Bal. It doth so, holy sir; and there's my master, One that you love.
Who is it?
Full half an hour.
Fri. How long hath he been there?
My master knows not but I am gone hence;
Fri. Stay then, I'll go alone :-Fear comes upon O, much I fear some ill unlucky thing. Bal. As I did sleep under this yew-tree here, I dreamt my master and another fought, And that my master slew him. Fri.
Romeo! (Advances.) The stony entrance of this sepulchre?— Alack, alack, what blood is this, which stains What mean these masterless and gory swords To lie discolour'd by this place of peace?
(Enters the monument.) Romeo! O, pale!-Who else? what, Paris too? And steep'd in blood?-Ah, what an unkind hour Is guilty of this lamentable chance!The lady stirs. (Juliet wakes and stirs.) Jul. O, comfortable friar, where is my lord? I do remember well where I should be, And there I am:-Where is my Romeo?
(Noise within.) Fri. I hear some noise.-Lady, come from that
Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep;
A greater Power than we can contradict
1 Watch. (Within.) Lead, boy:-Which way? Jul. Yea, noise?-then I'll be brief.-O happy dagger! (Snatching Romeo's dagger.) This is thy sheath; (Stabs herself.) there rust, and let me die.
(Falls on Romeo's body, and dies.) Enter Watch with the Page of Paris. Page. This is the place; there, where the torch
1 Watch. The ground is bloody: Search abont the churchyard:
Go, some of you, whoe'er you find, attach.
Pitiful sight! here lies the county slain;-
Enter some of the Watch, with BALTHASAR. 2 Watch. Here's Romeo's man, we found him in the churchyard. [bither. 1 Watch. Hold him in safety, till the prince come Enter another Watchman with Friar LAUrence. 3 Watch. Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs, and weeps:
We took this mattock and this spade from him,
La. Cap. The people in the street cry-Romeo, Some-Juliet, and some-Paris; and all ran, With open outery, toward our monument. Prince. What fear is this, which startles in our ears?
[slain; 1 Watch. Sovereign, here lies the county Paris And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before, Warm and new kill'd.
Prince. Search, seek, and know how this foul murder comes. [man; 1 Watch. Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's With instruments upon them, fit to open These dead men's tombs.
Cap. O, heavens!-O, wife! look how our daugh
This dagger hath mista'en,-for, lo! his house
And is mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom.
Enter MONTAGUE and others.
Prince. Come, Montague; for thou art early up, To see thy son aud heir more early down.
Mon. Ålas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night; Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath: What further woe conspires against mine age? Prince. Look, and thou shalt see.
Mon. O thou untaught! what manners is in this, To press before thy father to a grave?
Prince. Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while,
Till we can clear these ambiguities,
Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from this city,
Prince. We still have known thee for a boly Where's Romeo's man? what can he say in this
Bal. I brought my master news of Juliet's death And then in post he came from Mantua, To this same place, to this same monument. This letter he early bid me give his father; And threaten'd me with death, going in the van If I departed not, and left him there.
Prince. Give me the letter, I will look on it.Where is the county's page, that rais'd the watch Sirrah, what made your master in this place?
Page. He came with flowers to strew his lady
And bid me stand aloof, and so I did:
Prince. This letter doth make good the friar's words,
Their course of love, the tidings of her death:
And know their spring, their head, their true That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love
And then will I be general of your woes,
And lead you even to death: Mean time forbear,
Fri. I am the greatest, able to do least,
Prince. Then say at once what thou dost know in this.
Fri. I will be brief, for my short date of breath Is not so long as is a tedious tale.
Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet, And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife: I married them; and their stolen marriage-day Was Tybalt's dooms-day, whose untimely death
And I, for winking at your discords too,
Cap. As rich shall Romeo by his lady lie;
What, is Horatio there?
A piece of him.
Ber. Welcome, Horatio; welcome, good Marcellus. [night? Hor. What, has this thing appear'd again toBer. I have seen nothing.
Mar. Horatio says, 'tis but our fantasy; And will not let belief take hold of him, Touching this dreaded sight, twice seen of us: Therefore I have entreated him, along With us to watch the minutes of this night;' That, if again this apparition come, He may approve our eyes, and speak to it. Hor. Tush! tush! 'twill not appear. Sit down awhile;
Not a mouse stirring. And let us once again assail your ears,
If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,
The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste.
Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS.
Well, sit we down, And let us hear Bernardo speak of this. Ber. Last night of all,
Fran. I think, I hear them.-Stand, ho! Who When yon same star, that's westward from the pole,
Had made his course to illume that part of heaven
[again! Mar. Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes
Ber. In the same figure, like the king that's dead. Mar. Thou art a scholar, speak to it, Horatio. Ber. Looks it not like the king? mark it, Horatio.