Stands tip-toe on the misty mountain tops. I'll say, yon grey is not the morning's eye, I'll say, 'tis not the lark, whose notes do beat Rom. More light and light ?-more dark and dark our woes, Farewell, my love; one kiss, and I'll begone. [ROMEO descends the Ropeladder. Enter NURSE, Nurse. Madam. Jul. Nurse. Nurse. Your lady mother's coming to your cham, ber: The day is broke, be wary, look about. Jul. Art thou gone so ? love! lord! ah, husband, friend! I must hear from thee ev'ry day in th' hour, Rom. Farewell; I will omit no opportunity, Jul. Oh, think'st thou we shall ever meet again? Rom. I doubt it not, and all these woes shall serve For sweet discourses, in our time to come. Jul. O Heaven! I have an ill-divining soul: Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale. [Exeunt. SCENE VI. JULIET'S Chamber. Enter LADY CAPULET. Lady C. Ho, daughter, are you up? Enter JULIET. Jul. Who is't that calls? is it my lady mother? What unaccustom'd cause procures her hither? Lady C. Why, how now, Juliet? Jul. Madam, I am not well, Lady C. Evermore weeping for your cousin's death; What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears? Jul. Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss. Lady C. I come to bring thee joyful tidings, girl. Jul. And joy comes well, in such a needful time. What are they, I beseech your ladyship? Lady C. Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn, The gallant, young, and noble gentleman, Jul. I wonder at this haste, that I must wed, Lady C. Here comes your father; tell him so your self, And see, how he will take it at your hands. Enter CAPULET and NURSE. Cap. How now? a conduit, girl? what, still in tears? Evermore showering? Why, how now, wife? Have you delivered to her our decree? Lady C. Ay, sir; but she will none, she gives you thanks: I would the fool were married to her grave. Cap. Soft, take me with you, take me with you, wife. How, will she none? doth she not give us thanks? But settle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next, Jul. Good father, I beseech you on my knees, I tell thee what, get thee to church o'Thursday, Speak not, reply not, do not answer me. Wife, we scarce thought us blest, That Heav'n had sent us but this only child, Nurse. Heaven bless her You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so: Cap. And why, my lady wisdom? Hold your tongue, Good prudence; smatter with your gossips, go. Cap. Peace! you mumbling fool; Lady C. You are too hot. Cap. Good wife! it makes me mad-Day, night, late, early; At home, abroad; alone, in company; Waking or sleeping; still my care hath been Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly allied: If you be mine, I'll give you to my friend; If you be not, hang, beg, starve, die i'the streets; For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee. [Exit. Jul. Is there no pity sitting in the clouds, That sees into the bottom of my grief? O, sweet my mother, cast me not away! Delay this marriage for a month, a week; Or, if you do not, make the bridal bed In that dim monument where Tibalt lies. |