La. Cap. Evermore weeping for your coufin's | He fhall not make me there a joyful bride.
I wonder at this hafte; that I must wed

tears?

[live; An if thou could'ft, thou could'st not make him Therefore, have done: Some grief fhews much of love;

death? What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with Ere he, that should be husband, comes to woe, I pray you, tell my lord and father, madam, I will not marry yet; and, when I do, I fwear It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate, Rather than Paris:These are news indeed 1 La. Cap. Here comes your father; tell him fo yourfelf,

But much of grief fhews still some want of wit.
Jul. Yet let me weep for fuch a feeling lofs.
La. Cap. So fhall you feel the lofs, but not the
Which you weep for.

ful. Feeling fo the lofs,

[friend

I cannot choose but ever weep the friend.
La. Cap. Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much
for his death,

As that the villain lives which flaughter'd him.
Jul. What villain, madam ?

La. Cap. That fame villain, Romeo.
Jul. Villain and he are many miles asunder.
God pardon him! I do with all my heart;
And yet no man, like he, doth grieve my heart.
La. Cap. That is, because the traitor murderer

lives.

[hands:

And fee how he will take it at your hands.
Enter Capulet, and Nurfe.

Cap. When the fun fets, the air doth drizzle
dew;

But for the fun-fet of my brother's fon,
It rains downright.---

How now a conduit, girl? what, ftill in tears?
Evermore fhowering? In one little body
Thou counterfeit'ft a bark, a fea, a wind:
For ftill thy eyes, which I may call the fea,
Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is,
Sailing in this falt flood; the winds, thy fighs;
Who,—raging with thy tears, and they with them,
Without a fudden calm, will overfet

ful. Ay, madam, from the reach of these my Thy tempeft-toffed body,-How now, wife? Would, none but I might venge my coufin's Have you deliver'd to her our decree?

[not:
I

death!
La. Cap. We will have vengeance for it, fear thou
Then weep no more. I'll fend to one in Mantua,
Where that fame banish'd runagate doth live,-
That shall beftow on him fo fure a draught,
That he shall foon keep Tybalt company:
And then, I hope, thou wilt be fatisfied.

Jul. Indeed, I never shall be satisfied
With Romeo, 'till I behold him-dead-
Is my poor heart fo for a kinfman vext :-
Madam, if you could find out but a man
To bear a poifon, I would temper it;
That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof,
Soon fleep in quiet.-O, how my heart abhors

To hear him nam'd,—and cannot come to him;—
To wreak the love I bore iny cousin Tybalt,
Upon his body that hath flaughter'd him!

would, the fool were married to her grave!
Cap. Soft, take me with you, take me with
you, wife.

How will the none ? doth the not give us thanks?
Is the not proud? doth the not count her bleft,
Unworthy as fhe is, that we have wrought
So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom?
Jul. Not proud, you have; but thankful, that
you have:

Proud can I never be of what I hate ;
But thankful even for hate, that is meant love.
Cap. How now! how now! chop logick?→→
What is this?

Proud-and, I thank you-and, I thank you not→
And yet not proud-Mistress minion, you,

La. Cap. Find thou the means, and I'll find Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no proads,

One, who, to put thee from thy heaviness,
Hath forted out a fudden day of joy,
That thou expect'st not, nor I look'd not for.
Jul. Madam, in happy time, what day is that?
La. Cap. Marry, my child, early next Thurf-
day morn,

The gallant, young, and noble gentleman,
The county Paris', at Saint Peter's church,
Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride.
Jul. Now, by Saint Peter's church, and Peter too,

But fettle your fine joints 'gainft Thursday next,
To go with Paris to Saint Peter's church,
Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither.
Out, you green-fickness carrion! out, you baggage I
You tallow-face!

I

La Cap. Fie! fie! what, are you mad ?
Jul. Good father, I beseech you on my knees,
Hear me with patience but to speak a word.

Cap. Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient
wretch !

tell thee what,-get thee to church o' Thursday, Or never after look me in the face:

Speak not, reply not, do not anfwer me;
My fingers itch-Wife, we scarce thought us bleft,
That God hath fent us but this only child ;
But now I fee this one is one too much,

It is remarked, that " Paris, though in one place called Earl, is most commonly filed the Countie in this play. Shakspeare feems to have preferred, for fome reafon or other, the Italian comte to our Count; perhaps he took it from the old English novel, from which he is faid to have taken his plot.” He certainly did fo: Paris is there first filed a young carle, and afterwards counte, counter, and county; according to the unfettled orthography of the time.

And

And that we have a curfe in having her :

Out on her, hilding !

Nurfe. God in heaven bless her!

You are to blame, my lord, to rate her fo.

Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee,

[Exit.

Jul. O God!-0 nurfe!-how fhall this be prevented?

Cap. And why, my lady wisdom? hold your My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven;

tongue,

Good prudence; fmatter with your goffips, go.
Nurfe. 1 fpeak no treason.,
Cap. O, God ye good den!

Nurfe. May not one speak?

Cap. Peace, you mumbling fool!

Utter your gravity o'er a goflip's bowl,

For here we need it not.

La. Cap. You are too hot.

How fhall that faith return again to earth,
Unless that hufband fend it me from heaven
By leaving earth ?-comfort me, counfel me.-
Alack, alack, that heaven should practise stratagems
Upon fo foft a subject as myself I——

What fay'ft thou? haft thou not a word of joy ?
Some comfort, nurse.

Nurfe. 'Faith, here 'tis : Romeo

Is banished; and all the world to nothing,

Cap. God's bread! it makes me mad: Day, That he dares ne'er come back to challenge you ;

night, late, early,

At home, abroad, alone, in company,
Waking, or fleeping, ftill my care hath been
To have her match'd; and having now provided
A gentleman of princely parentage,

Of fair demefnes, youthful, and nobly train'd,
Stuff'd (as they fay) with honourable parts,

Or, if he do, it needs must be by stealth.
Then, fince the cafe fo ftands as now it doth,
I think it beft you married with the county.
Oh! he's a lovely gentleman!
Romeo's a difh-clout to him; an eagle, madam,
Hath not fo green, fo quick, fo fair an eye
As Paris hath. Befhrew my very heart,

Proportion'd as one's thought would with a man,-I think you are happy in this fecond match,

And then to have a wretched puling fool,
A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender,
To anfwer- I'll not wed,-I cannot love,-
I am too young,-I pray you, pardon me ;'-
But, an you will not wed, I'll pardon you: [me;
Graze where you will, you shall not houfe with
Look to't, think on't, I do not use to jest.
Thurfday is near; lay hand on heart, advise;
An you be mine, I'll give you to my friend;
An you be not, hang, beg, ítarve, die i'the streets,
For, by my foul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee,
Nor what is mine shall never do thee good :
Truft to't, bethink you, I'll not be foriworn,

Jul. Is there no pity fitting in the clouds,
That fees into the bottom of my grief i-
O, fweet my mother, caft 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 Tybalt lies.

[Exit.

For it excels your firft; or if it did not,
Your first is dead; or 'twere as good he were,
As living here and you no ufe of him.
Jul. Speakeft thou from thy heart?
Nurfe. And from my foul too;
Or elfe befhrew them both.
Jul. Amen!

Nurfe. What?

[much.

Jul. Well, thou haft comforted me marvellous
Go in; and tell my lady I am gone,
Having difpleas'd my father, to Laurence' cell,
To make confeffion, and to be abfolv`d. ̧

Nurfe. Marry, I will; and this is wifely done.

[Exit
Jul. Ancient damnation ! O most wicked fiend !
Is it more fin-to wish me thus forfworn,
Or to difpraise my lord with that fame tongue
Which the hath prais'd him with above compare
So many thousand times ?-Go, counsellor ;
Thou and my bosom henceforth fhall be twain.-

La. Cap. Talk not to me, for I'll not fpeak a I'll to the friar, to know his remedy:

word;

If all elfe fail, myself have power to die. [Exite

ACT

SCENE I.

Friar Laurence's Cell.

Enter Friar Laurence, and Paris.

IV.

Now, fir, her father counts it dangerous,
That the do give her forrow fo much sway;
And, in his wildom, haftes our marriage,
To ftop the inundation of her tears;

Fri. par. My father Capulet will have it fo; May be put from her by fociety:

Thursday, fir? the time is very fhort. Which, too much minded by herself alone,

And I am nothing flow, to flack his hafte.

Fri. You fay, you do not know the lady's mind;
Uneven is the courfe, I like it not.

Par. Immoderately the weeps for Tybalt's death,
And therefore little have I talk'd of love;
For Venus fimiles not in a house of tears.

ful. That may be, fir, when I may be a wife. That cop'ft with death himself to fcape from it: Par. That may be, muft be, love, on Thurf-And, if thou dar'ft, I'll give thee remedy. ful. What must be shall be. Fri. That's a certain text.

[day next.

Par. Come you to make confeffion to this father?
Jul. To anfwer that were to confefs to you.
Par. Do not deny to him, that you love me.
Jul. I will confefs to you, that I love him.
Par. So will you, I am fure, that you love me.
Jul. If I do fo, it will be of more price,
Being spoke behind your back, than to your face.
Par. Poor foul, thy face is much abus'd with

tears.

Jul. The tears have got fmall victory by that; For it was bad enough, before their spight.

Par. Thou wrong't it, more than tears, with that report.

Jul. That is no flander, fir, which is a truth;
And what I fpake, I fpake it to my face.

[it.
Par. Thy face is mine, and thou haft flander'd
Jul. It may be fo, for it is not mine own.--
Are you at leifure, holy father, now;
Or fhall I come to you at evening mafs?

Fri. My leifure ferves me, penfive daughter,

now:

My lord, we must intreat the time alone.

Par. God fhield, I should disturb devotion Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouze you : 'Till then, adieu! and keep this holy kifs.

Jul. O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris,
From off the battlements of yonder tower;
Or walk in thievish ways; or bid me lurk
Where ferpents are; chain me with roaring bears;
Or hide me nightly in a charnel house,
O'er-cover'd quite with dead men's rattling bones,
With reeky fhanks, and yellow chapless fculis;
Or bid me go into a new-made grave,
And hide me with a dead man in his shroud,
Things that, to hear them told, have made me
tremble;

And I will do it without fear or doubt,
To live an unftain'd wife to my fweet love.

Fri. Hold, then; go home; be merry, give

confent

To marry Paris: Wednesday is to-morrow;
To-morrow night look that thou lie alone,
Let not thy nurfe lie with thee in thy chamber:
Take thou this phial, being then in bed,
And this diftilled liquor drink thou off:
When, prefently, through all thy veins shall run
A cold and drowsy humour, which fhall seize
Each vital fpirit; for no pulfe fhall keep
His natural progress, but furcease to beat :
!-No warmth, no breath, shall testify thou liv'it;
The rofes in thy lips and cheeks fhall fade
To paly afhes; thy eyes' windows fall,
Like death, when he fhuts up the day of life;
Each part, depriv'd of fupple government,
Shall stiff, and stark, and cold appear like death :
And in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk death
Thou shalt remain full two and forty hours,
And then awake as from a pleasant sleep.
Now when the bridegroom in the morning comes
To roufe thee from thy bed, there art thou dead:
Then (as the manner of our country is)
In thy beft robes uncover'd on the bier,
Thou shalt be borne to that fame ancient vault,
Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie.
In the mean time, against thou shalt awake,
Shall Romeo by my letters know our drift;
And hither shall he come; and he and I
Will watch thy waking, and that very night
Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua.
And this shall free thee from this prefent fhame;
If no unconftant toy 2, nor womanish fear,
Abate thy valour in the acting it.

[Exit Paris.
Jul. O, fhut the door! and when thou hast
done fo,
[help!
Come weep with me; Paft hope, past cure, paft
Fri. Ah, Juliet, I already know thy grief;
It strains me paft the compafs of my wits:
I hear thou muft, and nothing may prorogue it,
On Thursday next be married to this county.

Jul. Tell me not, friar, that thou hear'st of this,
Unless thou tell me how I may prevent it:
If, in thy wifdom, thou canft give no help,
Do thou but call my refolution wife,
And with this knife I'il help it presently.
God join'd my heart and Romeo's, thou our hands;
And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo feal'd,
Shall be the label to another deed,
Or my true heart with treacherous revolt
Turn to another, this fhall flay them both :
Therefore, out of thy long-experienc'd time,
Give me fome prefent counfel; or, behold,
'Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife
Shall play the umpire, arbitrating that
Which the commiflion of thy years and art
Could to no iffue of true honour bring.
Be not fo long to speak; I long to die,
If what thou speak'st speak not of remedy.

Fri. Hold, daughter; I do fpy a kind of hope,
Which craves as defperate an execution
As that is defperate which we would prevent.
If, rather than to marry county Paris,
Thou haft the strength of will to flay thyself;
Then is it likely, thou wilt undertake

A thing like death to chide away this shame,

1 Commiffion for authexity or tower. hinder the performance.

If no fickle freak, no light caprice, no change of fancy,

Ser.

Sery. You shall have none ill, fir; for I'll try if( Which, well thou know'ft, is crofs and full of fin. they can lick their fingers.

Cap. How canft thou try them so ?

Serv. Marry, fir, 'tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers: therefore he, that cannot lick his fingers, goes not with me.

-

Cap. Go, begone.
[Exit Servant.
We shall be much unfurnifh'd for this time.-
What, is my daughter gone to friar Laurence?
Nurfe. Ay, forfooth.
Cap. Well, he may chance to do fome good on
A peevith felf-will'd harlotry it is.

Enter Juliet.

[her:

Nurf. See, where she comes from shrift with merry look. [been gadding?. Cap. How now, my head-ftrong? where have you Jul. Where I have learnt me to repent the fin Of difobedient oppofition

To you,

and behefts; and am enjoin'd

your

By holy Laurence to fall proftrate here,

Enter Lady Capulet.

La. Cap. What, are you bufy? do you need my

help?

Jul. No, madam; we have cull'd fuch neceffaries
As are behoveful for our ftate to-morrow:
So pleafe you, let me now be left alone,
And let the nurfe this night fit up with you;
For, I am fure, you have your hands fuil all,
In this fo fudden bufinefs.

And beg your pardon :-Pardon, I beseech you! Come, phial.-——
Henceforward I am ever rul'd by you.

Cap. Send for the county; go, tell him of this;
I'll have this knot knit up to-morrow morning.
Jul. I met the youthful lord at Laurence' cell;
And gave him what becomed love I might,
Not stepping o'er the bounds of modefty.

[up:

Cap. Why, I am glad on 't; this is well, ftand
This is as 't fhould be.-Let me fee the county;
Ay, marry, go, I say, and fetch him hither.-
Now, afore God, this reverend holy friar,
All our whole city is much bound to him.
Jul. Nurfe, will you go with me into my clofet,
To help me fort fuch needful ornaments

As think fit to furnish me to-morrow?
you
La. Cap. No, not 'till Thurfday; there is time
enough.

Cap. Go, nurse, go with her:-we'll to church
to-morrow. [Exeunt Julien, and Nurfe.
La. Cap. We thall be thort in our provision;
'Tis now near night.

Cap. Tufh! I will stir about,

What if this mixture do not work at all?
Shall I of force be married to the count?-
No, no ;-this fhall forbid it :-lie thou there.
[Laying down a dagger 2.

What if it be a poifon, which the friar
Subtly hath minifter'd to have me dead;
Left in this marriage he should be dishonour'd,
Because he married me before to Romeo?
I fear, it is: and yet, methinks, it should not,
For he hath ftill been tried a holy man :
I will not entertain fo bad a thought.-
How if, when I am laid into the tomb,

I wake before the time, that Romeo
Come to redeem me? there's a fearful point!
Shall I not then be ftifled in the vault,

To whofe foul mouth no healthfome air breathes in,
And there die ftrangled ere my Romeo comes?
Or, if I live, is it not very like,
The horrible conceit of death and night,
Together with the terror of the place,-
As in a vault, an ancient receptacle,

And all things thall be well, I warrant thee, wife: Where, for these many hundred years, the bones

Go thou to Juliet, help to deck up her ;
I'll not to-bed to-night;-let me alone :
I'll play the housewife for this once.-What, ho!--
They are all forth: Well, I will walk myself
To county Paris, to prepare him up
Against to-morrow: my heart is wondrous light,
Since this fame wayward girl is fo reclaim'd.

[Exeunt Capulet, and Lady Gapulet.
SCENE

Juliet's Chamber.

Enter Juliet, and Nurfe.

Of all my buried ancestors are pack'd;
Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth 3,
Lies feft'ring 4 in his shroud; where, as they fay,
At fome hours in the night fpirits resort ;—
Alack, alack! is it not like, that I,

So early waking,-what with loathfome smells;

And fhrieks like mandrakes torn out of the earth,
That living mortals, hearing them, run mad-
O! if I wake, shall I not be diftraugh: 5,
Environed with all thefe hideous fears?
And madly play with my forefathers' joints?
And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud ?

Jul. Ay, thofe attires are beft :-But, gentle And, in this rage, with fome great kinfman's bone,

nurse,

I pray thee, leave me to myself to-night;

For I have need of many orifons

To move the heavens to smile upon my state,

1 i. e. from confession. quarto, 1597, reads: " that knives were formerly 4 To fefter is to corrupt.

As with a club, dash out my desperate brains?
O, look! methinks I fee my coufin's ghoft
Seeking out Romeo, that did fpit his body
Upon a rapier's point :-Stay, Tybalt, ftay!-

2 This ftage-direction has been fupplied by the modern editors. The Knife, lie thou there." It appears from feveral paffages in our old plays, part of the accoutrements of a bride. 3 i. c. freth in earth, newly buried. 5 Difraught is distracted.

Romeo,

Romeo, I come this do I drink to thee.

SCEN

E IV.

Capulet's Hall.

|(Marry, and amen!) how found is the afleep!

[She throws berfelf on the bed. 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 clothes! and down again!
I must 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-vitæ, ho !-My lord !-my lady!
Enter Lady Capulet.

Enter Lady Capulet, and Nurse.
La. Cap, Hoid, take thefe keys, and fetch more
fpices, nurse.

Nurfe. They call for dates and quinces in the paftry.
Enter Capulet.

Cap. Come, ftir, ftir, ftir! the fecond cock hath
crow'd,

The curfeu bell hath rung, 'tis three o'clock :-
Look to the bak'd meats, good Angelica:
Spare not for cost.

Nurfe. Go, you cot-quean, go,

Get you to bed; 'faith, you'll be fick to-morrow
For this night's watching.

Cap. No, not a whit; What! I have watch'd

ere now

All night for a lefs caufe, and ne'er been fick.
La. Cap. Ay, you have been a moufe-hunt in
your time;

But I will watch you from fuch watching now.
[Exeunt Lady Capulet, and Nurfe.
Cap. A jealous-hood, a jealous-hood !-Now,
fellow,

What's there?
Enter three or four, with fpits, and logs, and baskets.
Serv. Things for the cook, fir; but I know not
what.

[logs!

Cap. Make hafte, make haste. Sirrah, fetch drier
Call Peter, he will fhew thee where they are.

Serv. I have a head, fir, that will find out logs,
And never trouble Peter for the matter. [Exit.
Cap. 'Mafs, and well faid; A merry whorefon! ha,
Thou shalt be logger-head.-Good faith, 'tis day:
The county will be here with musick straight,
[Mufick within.
For fo he said he would. I hear him near :-
Nurfe !--Wife!-what, ho!-what, Nurfe, I fay!
Enter Nurfe.

Go, waken Juliet, go, and trim her up;
I'll go and chat with Paris :-Hie, make haste,
Make hafte! the bridegroom he is come already :
Make hafte, I fay!

SCENE

V.

Juliet's Chamber; Juliet on the Bed.

Enter Nurfe.

[Exeunt.

Nurse. Mistress !—what, mistress !—Juliet !— faft, 1 warrant her:→→→

La. Cap. What noife is here?
Nurfe. O lamentable day !
La. Cap. What's the matter?

Nurfe. Look, look! O heavy day!

La. Cap. O me, O 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 [day!

come.

Nurfe. She's dead, deceas'd, fhe's dead; alack the
La. Cap. Alack the day! fhe's dead, the's dead,
fhe's dead.

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 feparated:
Death lies on her, like an untimely froft
Upon the fweetest flower 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 Mafcians.
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 bride :--See, there the lies
Flower as the was, deflowered now by him.
Death is my fon-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 fee this morning's
face,

And doth it give me fuch a fight as this?

La.Cap. Accurs'd,unhappy, wretched,hateful daj '
Moft miferable 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.
Nurfe. O woe! Ọ woeful, woeful, woeful day!

Why, lamb!-why, lady!-fie, you flug a-bed!-
Why, love, I fay!-madam! sweet-heart! Most lamentable day! most woeful day,

why, bride!

That ever, ever, I did yet behold!

What, not a word ?you take your penny-O day! O day! O day! O hateful day!

worths now;

Sleep for a week; for the next night, I warrant,
The county Paris hath set up his rest 1,
That you shall reft but little.God forgive me,

Never was feen fo black a day as this:
O woeful day, O woeful day!

Par. Beguil'd, divorced, wronged, spighted, flam !
Moft detestable death, by thee beguil'd,

* This expreffion, which is frequently employed by the old dramatic writers, Mr. Steevens fays, is taken from the manner of firing the harquebufs. This was fo heavy a gun, that the foldiers were obliged to carry a supporter called a reft, which they fixed in the ground before they levelled to take aim.

Br