Romeo and Juliet

What if it be a poifon, which the Friar
Subtly hath miniftred, to have me dead,
Left in this marriage he fhould be dishonour'd,
Because he married me before to Romeo?

I fear it is; and yet methinks it should 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 healthfome air breathes in 2 And there be strangled 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 these many hundred years, the bones
Of all my buried ancestors are pack'd;
Where bloody Tibalt, 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

So early waking, what with loathfome smells,
And fhrieks like mandrakes torn out of the earth,
That living mortals, hearing them, run mad,-
Or if I wake, fhall I not be distraught,
(Invironed with all these hideous fears,)
And madly play with my forefathers joints,
And pluck'd the mangled Tibalt from his shroud?
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 coufin's ghost
Seeking out Romeo-Stay, Tibalt, stay!
Ramea, I come! this do I drink to thee.

[Drinks.

[She throws herself on the bed.

SCENE

La. Cap.

Enter Lady Capulet and Nurse.

Hold
[Old, take thefe keys, and fetch more

fpices, Nurse.

Nurfe. They call for dates and quinces in the pastry.

Enter Capulet and Lady meeting.

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

[Exit.

Cap. No, not a whit; what, I have watch'd ere now All night for a lefs caufe, and ne'er been fick.

[Play Mufic.

The County will be here with mufic ftraight,
For fo he faid he would.-

I hear him near,

Nurfe,

wife,

what ho? what, Nurfe, I say?

Enter Nurse.

Go waken Juliet, go, and trim her up.

I'll go and chat with Paris: hie, make hafte :

Make hafte, I fay.

[Exit Capulet.

SCENE V.

SCENE draws, and discovers Juliet on a bed.

Nurfe. Mitre warrant her,

Iftrefs, what miftrefs! Juliet--Fast, I

Why, lamb-why, lady-Fy, you flug-a-bed

Why, love, I say-Madam, fweet-heart-why, bride

What,

What, not a word! you take your pennyworths now;
Sleep for a week; for the next night, I warrant,
That you reft but little- -God forgive me
-How found is fhe afleep?

Marry and amen

I muft 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?
Ho! my lord, my lady!

Enter Lady Capulet.

La. Cap. What noife is here?

Nurfe. O lamentable day!

La. Cap. What is the matter?
Nurfe. Look,- -oh, heavy day!

La. Cap. 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, She's dead; fhe's dead: alack the day! Cap. Ha! let me fee her-Out alas, she's cold, Her blood is fettled, 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. Accurfed time! unfortunate old man!

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 the wedding-day
Death has embrac'd thy wife: fee, there fhe lies,
Flower as fhe was, nipp'd in the bud by him!
Oh Juliet, oh my child, my child!

Par.

Par. Have I thought long to fee this morning's face,
And doth it give me fuch a fight as this?

La. Cap. Accurft, unhappy, wretched, hateful day.
Cap. Moft miferable hour, that Time ere faw
In lafting labour of his pilgrimage.

But one, poor one, one poor and loving child,
But one thing to enjoy and folace in,

And cruel death hath catcht it from my fight.

Fri. Your daughter lives in peace and happiness;
Heav'n and yourself had part in this fair maid,
Now, heav'n hath all-dry up your fruitless tears:
Come, flick your rofemary on this fair corpfe;
And, as the cuftom of our country is,
Convey her where her ancestors lie tomb'd.
Cap. All things that we ordain'd to festival,
Turn from their office to black funeral
Our inftruments to melancholy bells;
Our wedding cheer, to a fad burial feaft:
Our folemn hymns to fullen dirges change;
And bridal flowers ferve for a burial 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 heav'ns do low'r upon you, for fome ill;
Move them no more by croffing their high will.
[Exeunt.