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SCENE V.

Changes to Juliet's Chamber, Juliet on a bed.

Re-enter Nurse.

Nurse. M Iftrefs, what, mistress? 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,
The County Paris hath fet up his Reft,

That you shall reft but little-God forgive me
Marry, and amen!-How found is the asleep?
I must needs wake her. Madam, madam, madam,
Ay, let the County take you in your bed.
He'll fright you up, i'faith. Will it not be?
What dreft, and in your cloathsand down again!
I muft needs wake you: Lady, lady, lady.
Alas! alas! help! help! my lady's dead,
O, well-a-day, that ever I was born!
Some Aqua-vita, Ho! my Lord, my lady!

Enter Lady Capulet.

La. Cap. What noife is here?

Nurfe. 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.

1

Enter

Enter Capulet.

Cap. For fhame, bring Juliet forth. Her Lord is

come.

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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 stiff; Life and thefe lips have long been separated; Death lies on her, like an untimely froft 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 speak.

Enter Friar Lawrence, and Paris with Muficians.

Fri. Come, is the bride ready to go to church?
Cap. Ready to go, but never to return.

O fon, the night before thy wedding-day
Hath Death lain with thy wife. See, there fhe lies,
Flow'r as fhe was, deflowered now by him,

Death is my fon-in-law.

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,
But one thing to rejoice and folace in,

And cruel death hath catch'd it from my fight.

H 4

Nurfe,

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Nurfe. O woe! oh woful, woful, woful, day!
Most lamentable day! moft woful day!
That ever, ever, I did yet behold.

Oh day! oh day! oh day! oh hateful day!
Never was feen fo black a day as this.
Oh woful day, oh woful day!

Par. Beguil'd, divorced, wronged, fpighted, slain, Moft deteftable Death, by thee beguil'd,

By cruel, cruel thee quite overthrown :

O Love, O Life,--not Life, but Love in Death !—
Cap. Defpis'd, diftreffed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd,
Uncomfortable Time! why cam'ft thou now
To murder, murder our Solemnity?

O Child! O Child! My Soul, and not my Child!
Dead art thou! dead; alack! my Child is dead;
And, with my Child, my Joys are buried.

Fri. Peace, ho, for Shame! Confufion's Cure
lives not

In thefe Confufions: Heaven and yourself
Had part in this fair Maid; now Heav'n hath all
And all the better is it for the Maid.

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Your part in her you could not keep from Death;
But Heav'n keeps his part in eternal Life.

O woe! ob weful, &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.

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 inPOPE. telligible, and this was an unrea fonable labour. As I have reformed the paffage above quoted, I dare warrant, I have restored our poet's text; and a fine fenfible reproof it contains against immoderate grief.

2 In former editions,
Peace, bo, for fhame, confufi-

ons: Care lives not
In thefe confufions:] This
fpeech, though it contains good
Christian doctrine, though it is
perfectly in character for the Friar,

THEOB.

The

The most, you fought, was her Promotion;
For 'twas your Heaven, fhe fhould be advanc'd ;
And weep you now, seeing she is advanc'd,
Above the Clouds, as high as Heav'n himself?
Oh, in this Love you love your Child fo ill,
That you run mad, feeing, that fhe is well.
She's not well married, that lives married long;
But she's beft married, that dies married young.
Dry up your tears, and ftick your Rosemary
On this fair Coarfe; and, as the Cuftom is,
And in her beft Array, bear her to Church.
3 For tho' fond Nature bids us all lament,
Yet Nature's Tears are Reafon's Merriment.

Cap. All Things, that we ordained feftival,
Turn from their Office to black Funeral;
Our Inftruments to melancholy Bells,
Our wedding Chear to a fad Funeral Feaft;
Our folemn Hymns to fullen Dirges change,
Our bridal Flow'rs ferve for a buried Coarfe;
And all things change them to the contrary.

Fri. Sir, go you in, and, Madam, go with him; And go, Sir Paris; ev'ry one prepare To follow this fair Coarfe unto her Grave. The Heav'ns 'do low'r upon you, for fome Ill; Move them no more, by croffing their high Will. [Exeunt Capulet, Lady Capulet, Paris, and Friar.

3 For the 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, fome: and which admirably quadrates with the verfe fucceeding this.

THEOB.

SCENE

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Manent Musicians, and Nurse.

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 case.

[Exit Nurfe. Muf. Ay, by my troth, the cafe may be amended.

Enter Peter.

Pet. Muficians, oh musicians, heart's ease, heart's ease:

Oh, an you will have me live, why, play heart's eafe. Muf. Why, heart's eafe?

Pet. O musicians, because my heart itself plays, my heart itself is full of woe.

ry dump, to comfort me!

+ O, play me fome mer

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.

+0, play me fome merry dump, to comfort me!] This is not in the

folio, but the anfwer plainly requires it.

Pet.

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