SCENE V. Changes to Juliet's Chamber, Juliet on a bed. Nurse. M Re-enter Nurfe. Iftrefs,-what, miftrefs? Juliet-Fast, I' warrant her. Why, lamb-why, Lady-Fy, you slug-a-bed Why, love, I fay. Bride Madam-Sweet-heart-why? What, not a word!-You take your pennyworths now; Sleep for a week; for the next night, I warrant, That you fhall reft but little- -God forgive me Enter Lady Capulet. La. Cap. What noise is here? Nurse. 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 Enter Capulet. Cap. For fhame, bring Juliet forth. Her Lord is come. 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 separated; Death lies on her, like an untimely frost Upon the sweetest flow'r of all the field. Accurfed time! unfortunate old man! Nurfe. O lamentable day! La. Cap. O woeful Time! Cap. Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail, Ties up my Tongue, and will not let me fpeak. Enter Friar Lawrence, and Paris with Muficians. Fri. Come, is the bride ready to go to church? O fon, the night before thy wedding-day 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! Most miserable hour, that Time e'er faw In lafting labour of his pilgrimage! But one, poor one, one poor and loving child, And cruel death hath catch'd it from my fight. H 4 Nurfe. Nurfe. 'O woe! oh woful, woful, woful, day! I Most lamentable day! moft woful day! That ever, ever, I did yet behold. Oh day! oh day! oh day! oh hateful day! Oh woful day, oh woful day ! ' Τ C Par. Beguil'd, divorced, wronged, fpighted, flain, Moft deteftable Death, by thee beguil'd, By cruel, cruel thee quite overthrown: O Love, O Life,-not Life, but Love in Death!- O Child! O Child! My Soul, and not my Child! Fri. 2 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 Your part in her you could not keep from Death; 1 O woe! ob woful, &c.] This fpeech of exclamations is not in the edition above cited. Several other parts, unneceffary or tautology, are not to be found in the faid edition; which occafions the variation in this from the common books. POPE. 2 In fornier editions, ons: Care lives not In thefe confufions:] This fpeech, though it contains good Chriftian doctrine, though it is perfectly in character for the Friar, Mr. Pope has curtail'd to little or nothing, because it has not the fanction of the first old copy. But there was another reafon : Certain corruptions started, which fhould have required the indulging his private fenfe to make them in. telligible, and this was an unrea fouable labour. As I have reformed the paffage above quoted, I dare warrant, I have reftored our poet's text; and a fine fenfible reproof it contains against immoderate grief. THEOR. The The most, you fought, was her Promotion; 3 For tho' fome Nature bid us all lament,] Some Nature? Sure, it is the general rule of Nature, or fhe could not bid us all lament. I have ventured to fub ftitute an epithet, which, I fufpect, was loft in the idle, corrupted word, fame: and which admirably quadrates with the verfe fucceeding this. THEOB. SCENE Manent Muficians, and Nurfe. Muf. 'Faith, we may put up our pipes and be gone, Nurfe. Honeft good fellows, ah, put up, put up, For, well you know, this is a pitiful cafe. [Exit Nurfe, Muf. Ay, by my troth, the cafe may be amended. Enter Peter.. Pet. Muficians, oh musicians, heart's ease, heart's eafe: Oh, an you will have me live, why, play heart's ease. Muf. Why, heart's ease? Pet. O muficians, because my heart itself plays, my heart itself is full of woe. 40, play me fome merry dump, to comfort me! Muf. Not a dump we, 'tis no time to play now. Pet. You will not then? Muf. No. Pet. I will then give it you foundly. Muf. What will you give us? Pet. No mony, on my faith, but the gleek. I will give you the Minstrel. Muf. 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? Muf. An you re us, and fa us, you note us. 2 Muf. Pray you, put up your dagger, and put out your wit. 40, play me fome merry dump, to comfort me!] This is not in the folio, but the answer plainly requires it. Pet. |