In all refpects by me; nay more, I doubt it not.
Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed;
Acquaint her here with my fon Paris' love,
And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next,
But, foft; what day is this?

Par. Monday, my Lord.

Cap. Monday? Ha! ha! well, Wednesday is too foon,

On Thursday let it be. O' Thurfday, tell her,

She shall be married to this noble Earl.

-Will you be ready? Do you like this Hafte?
We'll keep no great a do-a friend or two
For, hark you, Tybalt being flain fo late,
It may be thought we held him carelefly,
Being our kinfman, if we revel much;

Therefore we'll have fome half a dozen friends,
And there's an end. But what fay you to Thursday?
Par. My Lord, I would that Thursday were to-

morrow.

Cap. Well, get you gone on Thursday be it

then.

Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed. [To Lady Cap.
Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day.
Farewel, my Lord-Light to my chamber, hoa!
'Fore me.It is fo late, that we may call
It early by and by. Good night.

daughter will be ruled in all re-
fpects by him. We should read,
Sir Paris, I will make a SEPA-
RATE tender.
i. e. I will venture Separately on
my own head, to make you a
tender of my daughter's love
without confulting her. For Sir
Paris was impatient, and the
mother had faid,

T

[Exeunt.

Things have fall'n out, Sir, fe unluckily,

That we have had no time to move our daughter.

WARBURTON. Defperate means only bold, advent'rous, as if he had faid in the vulgar phrafe, I will speak a bold word, and venture to promife you my daughter.

SCENE

S CEN E VII.

Juliet's Chamber looking to the Garden.

Enter Romeo and Juliet, above at a window; a ladder

Ful. W

of ropes fet.

ILT 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 pomgranate 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 mountains' tops.
I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
Jul. Yon light is not day-light, I know it,
It is fome meteor that the Sun exhales,
To be to thee this night a torch-bearer,
And light thee on thy way to Mantua
Then ftay a while, thou shalt not go so soon.
Rom. Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death,
I am content, if 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 heav'ns fo high above our heads.

;

I have more care to ftay, than will to go. Come death, and welcome; Juliet wills it fo.

7 the pale reflex-] The appearance of a cloud oppofed to the moon.

I have more care to stay, than

will to go.] Would it be

better thus,

G

2

I have more will to ftay, than care to go ?

How

How is't, my Soul? 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 harsh difcords, and unpleafing sharps.
Some fay, the lark makes fweet divifion;
This doth not fo: for fhe divideth us.

Some fay, the lark and loathed toad chang'd eyes;
9 O, now I would they had chang'd voices too!
1 Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray,
Hunting thee up with huntfup to the day.
O now be gone, more light and light it grows.
Rom. More light and light?-More dark and
dark our Woes.

9 0, now I WOULD they had chang'd voices too!] The toad having very fine eyes, and the lark very ugly ones, was the occafion of a common faying amongst the people, that the toad and lark had chang'd eyes. To this the speaker alludes. But fure fhe need not have wished that they had changed voices too. The lark appear'd to her untunable enough in all confcience: As appears by what she said just before,

It is the lark that fings fo out

of tune, Straining harth difcords and

unpleafing tharps. This directs us to the right reading. For how natural was it for her after this to add,

Some fay the lark and loathed toad change eyes.

Nor I wor they have chang'd voices too.

The day is broke, be wary, look about.

[Exit Nurfe. Jul, Then, Window, let Day in, and let Life out. Rom. Farewel, farewel; one Kifs, and I'll defcend. [Romeo defcends.

ful. Art thou gone fo? love! lord! ah husband!

friend!

I must hear from thee ev'ry day in th' 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. Farewel: I will omit no opportunity,
Than may convey my greetings, love, to thee.
Jul. O think'ft thou, we fhall ever meet again?
Rom. I doubt it not; and all thefe woes fhall ferve
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 eye-fight fails, or thou look'ft pale.
Rom. And truft me, love, in mine eye fo do you:
Dry Sorrow drinks our blood.

Adieu, adieu.

SCENE

[Exit Romeo.

VIII.

Jul. Oh 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 hini long,
But fend him back..

Enter Lady Capulet.

La. Cap. Ho, daughter, are you up?

Jul. Who is't that calls? Is is my lady mother? Is the not down fo late, or up fo early?

2

What unaccustom'd caufe procures her hither?
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 couldft, thou couldst not make him live Therefore, have done. Some Grief fhews much of

Love;

But much of Grief fhews ftill fome want of Wit.
Jul. Yet let me weep for fuch a feeling lofs.
La. Cap. So fhall, you feel the Lofs, but not the
Friend

Which you do weep for.

Jul. Feeling fo the Lofs,

I cannot chufe but ever weep the Friend.

La. Cap. Well, girl, thou weep'ft not so much for his death,

As that the villain lives which flaughter'd him.
Jul. What villain, Madam?

La. Cap. That fame villain, Romeo.

Jul Afide.] 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, becaufe the Traitor lives. :

3

Jul. 1, Madam, from the Reach of these my

hands

Would, none but I might venge my Coufin's Death!

2 procures her hither?] Procures, for beings. WARB. 31, Madam, from-] Juliet's

equivocations are rather too artful for a mind difturbed by the lofs of a new lover,

La.