Cap. Ha! let me see her ---- Out alas, fhe's cold,
Her blood is fettled, 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 the field.

Accurfed time! unfortunate old man!

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 the wedding-day
Hath death lain with thy wife: fee, there fhe lies,
Flower as fhe was, deflower'd now by him:
Death is my son 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. Accurft, 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 catcht it from my fight.

Nurfe. Oh woe! oh woful, woful, woful day!† Most lamentable day! most woful day!

That ever, ever, I did yet behold,

Oh day! oh day! oh day! oh hateful day!
Never was seen so black a day as this:

Oh woful day! oh woful day!

Fri. Oh peace for fhame

Your daughter lives in peace and happiness,
And it is vain to wifh it otherwise.

Heav'n and your felf had part in this fair maid,
Now heav'n hath all-

This fpeech of exclamations is not in the edition above cited. unneceffary or tautology, are not to be found in the faid edition; variation in this from the common books.

Come

Several other parts, which occafions the

་

Come stick your rosemary on this fair corpse,
And as the custom of our country is,
In all her best and sumptuous ornaments
Convey her where her ancestors lie tomb'd.
Cap. All things that we ordained festival,
Turn from their office to black funeral:
Our instruments, to melancholy bells;
Our wedding chear, to a fad burial feast;
Our folemn hymns to fullen dirges change;
And bridal flow'rs ferve for a buried coarse.

SCENE VI.

Manent Musicians.

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.

Muf. Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended.

Enter Peter.

[Exeunt.

Pet. Musicians, oh musicians, heart's ease, heart's ease: oh, an you will have me live, play heart's ease.

Muf. Why heart's ease?

Pet. O musicians, because my heart it self plays, my heart is full of woe. O play me some merry dump, to comfort me! 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, 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.

2 Muf. Pray you put up your dagger, and put out your wit. Pet. Then have at you with my wit, answer me like men: When griping griefs the heart doth wound,

Then mufick with her filver found---

Why filver found? why mufick with her filver found! -
What fay you, Simon Carling?

Muf. Marry, Sir, because filver hath a sweet found.
Pet. Pretty! what fay you, Hugh Rebeck?

2 Muf. I fay filver found, because musicians found for filver. Pet. Pretty too! what lay you Samuel Sound-board?

3 Muf. Faith I know not what to say.

Pet.

you.

I cry you mercy, you are the finger, I will say for It is mufick with her filver found, because fuch fellows

as you have no gold for founding.

Muf. What a peftilent knave is this fame?

[Exit.

2 Muf. Hang him, Jack, come, we'll in here, tarry for the mourners, and stay dinner.

[Exeunt.

8 prateft.

HOTOIO

1 prateft too.

ACT

ACT V, SCENE I

MANTUA,

Enter Romeo.

a

F I may truft the flattery of fleep,

My dreams presage fome joyful news at hand:
My bofom's lord fits lightly on his throne,
And all this day, an unaccustom'd fpirit

Lifts me above the ground with chearful thoughts.
I dreamt my lady came and found me dead,
(Strange dream! that gives a dead man leave to think)
And breath'd fuch life with kiffes in my lips,
That I reviv'd, and was an Emperor.
Ah me! how fweet is love it felf poffeft,
When but love's fhadows are fo rich in joy

Enter Romeo's Man.

News from Verona ----How now Balthazar ?
Doft thou not bring me letters from the Friar?
How doth my lady is my father well?
How doth my Juliet? that I ask again,
For nothing can be ill, if fhe be well,

Man. Then she is well, and nothing can be ill,
Her body fleeps in Capulet's monument,
And her immortal part with angels lives:
I faw her laid low in her kindreds vault,
And presently took post to tell it you
O pardon me for bringing thefe ill news

a flattring truth of fleep.

Rom.

band all this winged, unaccustom'd.

Rom. Is it even fo? then I defy you, stars! Thou know'ft my lodging, get me ink and paper, And hire post-horses. I will hence to-night.

Man. Pardon me Sir, I dare not leave you thus. Your looks are pale and wild, and do import Some misadventure.

Rom. Tufh, thou art deceiv'd,

Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do:
Haft thou no letters to me from the Friar?
Man. No, good my lord.

Rom. No matter: Get thee gone,

And hire those horfes, I'll be with thee straight.
Well Juliet, I will lye with thee to-night;
Let's fee for means ----- O mischief! thou art swift
To enter in the thought of desperate men!
I do remember an Apothecary,

And hereabouts he dwells, whom late I noted

In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows,
Culling of fimples; meager were his looks,
Sharp misery had worn him to the bones:

And in his needy fhop a tortoise hung,

An alligator ftuft, and other skins
Of ill-shap'd fishes, and about his shelves

A beggarly account of empty boxes;

Green earthen pots, bladders, and mufty feeds,
Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of rofes
Were thinly scattered, to make up a fhew.
Noting this penury, to my self I said,
And if a man did need a poifon now,
Whose fale is present death in Mantua,
Here lives a caitiff wretch would fell it him.
Oh this fame thought did but fore-run my need,
And this fame needy man must sell it me.

[Exit Man.

As