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. 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 woeful 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? 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! Moft miferable 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. Oh day! oh day! oh day! oh hateful day! Never was feen fo black a day as this: Par. Beguil'd, divorced, wronged, fpighted, flain, Moft deteftable death, by thee beguil'd, By cruel, cruel thee quite over-thrown : O child! O child! my foul, and not my child! Fri. Peace, ho, for fhame! Confufion's cure lives not (13) In thefe 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; (13) Peace, bo, for shame, confufions: Care lives not in theft Confufions,] This Speech, though it contains good Christian Doctrine, though it is perfectly in Character for the Friar, and not the most defpicable for its Poetry, Mr. Pope has curtailed to little or nothing, because it has not the Sanction of the firft old Copy. By the fame Rule, had he purfued it throughout, we might have loft fome of the fineft additional Strokes in the two Parts of K. Henry IV. But there was another Reafon, fufpect for curtailing: Certain Corruptions started, which fhould have required the indulging his private Senfe to make them intelligible, and this was an unreafonable Labour. As I have reformed the Paffage above quoted, I dare warrant, I have restored our Poet's Text; and a 'finc fenfible Reproof it contains against immoderate Grief: for the Friar begins with telling them, that the Cure of thofe Confufions, into which the melancholy Accident had thrown 'em, did not live in the confus'd and inordinate Exclamations which they expreffed on that Account, Oh, Oh, in this love you love your child fo ill, Cap. All things, that we ordained feftival, Fri. Sir, go you in, and, Madam, go with him; [Exeunt Capulet, Lady Capulet, Paris and Friar. 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. (14) For tho' fome Nature bid us all lament.] Some Nature? Sure, it is the general Rule of Nature, or the could not bid us all lament. I have ventured to fubftitute an Epithet, which, I fufpect, was loft in the idle, corrupted Word, Some; and which admirably quadrates with the Verfe fucceeding this; that though the fondnels of nature lay fuch an injunction upon us, yet that Reafon does but mock our Lavelling forrow. Enter Enter Peter. Pet. Muficians, oh muficians, heart's eafe, heart's safe: Oh, an you will have me live, why, play heart's safe. Muf. Why, beart's ease? Pet. O muficians, becaufe my heart itfelf plays, my beart itself is full of voe. O, play me fome merry dump, to comfort me! Muf. Not a dump we, 'tis no time to play now. Muf. No. Pet. I will then give it you foundly. Muf. What will you give us? Pet. No money, on my faith, but the gleek: I will give you the minstrel. Muf. Then will I give you the ferving creature. Pet. Then will I lay the ferving 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. Pet. Then have at you with my wit: I will dry-beat you with an iron wit, and put up my iron dagger: anfwer me like men: When griping grief the heart doth wound, Then mufic with her filver found. : Why, filver found? why, mufick with her filver found? 1 Muf. Marry, Sir, becaufe filver hath a fweet found. Pet. Pretty! what fay you, Hugh Rebeck? 2 Muf. I fay, filver found, because musicians found for filver. Pet. Pretty too! what fay you, Samuel Sound-Board? 3 Muf. 'Faith, I know not what to fay. Pet. O, I cry you mercy, you are the finger, I will Say for you. It is mufick with her filver found, because fuch fellows, as you, have no gold for founding. The mufick with her filver found [Exit finging. Muf. Muf. What a peftilent knave is this fame? 2 Muf. Hang him, Jack; come, we'll in here, tarry for the mourners, and stay dinner. [Exeunt. A CT V. SCENE, in MANTUA. Enter ROM E O. F I may truft the flattering truth of fleep, I'My dreams prefage fome joyful news at hand: My bofom's Lord fits lightly on his throne, Ah me! how sweet is love itfelf poffeft, Enter Balthafar. News from Verona- -How now, Balthafar? Baltha. Then fhe is well, and nothing can be ill; Rom. Is it even fo? then I defy you, ftars! Thou know'ft my lodging,get me ink and paper, And hire poft-horfes. I will hence to-night. Baltha |