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Enter three or four, with Spits, and Logs, and Baskets.

Serv. Things for the cook, sir; but I know not what. Cap. Make haste, make haste. Sirrah, fetch drier logs; Call Peter, he will shew thee where they are. Serv. I have a head, sir, that will find out logs, And never trouble Peter for the matter. [Exit. Cap. 'Mass, and well said; A merry whoreson ha, Thou shalt be logger-head.—Good faith, 'tis day : The county will be here with musick straight, [Musick within. For so he said he would. I hear him near: Nurse!—Wife!—what, ho!—what, Nurse, I say !

Enter Nurse.

Go, waken Juliet, go, and trim her up; 262
I'll go and chat with Paris :—Hie, make haste,
Make haste! the bridegroom he is come already:
Make haste, I say! [Exeunt.

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Cap. For shame, bring Juliet forth; her lord is COnne. -

Kij Nurse.

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Cap. Ha! let me see her:—Out, alas! she's cold; Her blood is settled, 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 all the field. Accursed time ! unfortunate old man!

Nurse, oiamentable day !

La. Cap. O woeful time !

Cap. Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me

wail, 3oo

Ties up my tongue, and will not let me speak.

Enter Friar LAw R.E.Nce, and PARIs, with Musicians.

Fri. Come, is the bride ready to go to church 2 Cap. Ready to go, but never to return :O son, the night before thy wedding day Hath death lain with thy bride —See, there she lies, Flower as she was, deflowered now by him. Death is my son-in-law, death is my heir ; My daughter he hath wedded ! I will die, And leave him all; life leaving, all is death's, Par. Have I thought long to see this morning's face, 31o And doth it give me such a sight as this La. Cap. Accurs'd, unhappy, wretched, hateful day ! Most

Most miserable hour, that time e'er saw
In lasting labour of his pilgrimage
But one, poor one, one poor and loving child,
But one thing to rejoice and solace in,
And cruel death hath catch'd it from my sight.
Nurse. O woel O woeful, woeful, woeful day ! .
Most lamentable day! most woeful day,
That ever, ever, I did yet behold 320
O day ! O day ! O day! O hateful day !
Never was seen so black a day as this ;
O woeful day, O woeful day !
Par. Beguil'd, divorced, wronged, spighted, slain!
Most detestable death, by thee beguil'd,
By cruel cruel thee quite overthrown —
O love O life l—not life, but love in death !
Cap. Despis'd, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd]—
Uncomfortable time! why cam'st thou now
To murder murder our solemnity ?— 330
O child ! O child!—my soul, and not my child !—
Dead art thou !—alack! my child is dead;
And, with my child, my joys are buried 1.
Fri. Peace, ho, for shame ! confusion's cure lives
not
In these confusions. Heaven and yourself
Had part in this fair maid; now heaven hath all,
And all the better is it for the maid : .
Your part in her you could not keep from death;
But heaven keeps his part in eternal life.
The most you sought was—her promotion; 34O
For 'twas your heaven, she should be advanc'd :
K i ij Aad
And weep ye now, seeing she is advanc'd,
Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself?
O, in this love, you love your child so ill,
That you run mad, seeing that she is well:
She's not well marry'd, that lives marry'd long;
But she's best marry'd, that dies marry'd young.
Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary
On this fair corse; and, as the custom is,
In all her best array bear her to church : 35o
For though fond nature bids us all lament,
Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment.
Cap. All things, that we ordained festival,
Turn from their office to black funeral:
Our instruments, to melancholy bells;
Our wedding cheer, to a sad burial feast;
Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change;
Our bridal flowers serve for a bury'd corse,
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 361
To follow this fair corse unto her grave:
The heavens do lour upon you, for some ill;
Move them no more, by crossing their high will.
[Exeunt CApulet, LadyCApulet, Paris, and Friar.
Mus. 'Faith, we may put up our pipes, and be
gone.
Nurse. Honest good fellows, ah, put up, put up ;
For, well you know, this is a pitiful case. -
[Exit Nurse.
Mus. Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended.
- Enter |

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