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SCENE changes to Capuler's House.

C Cap. T

Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, and Paris. Cap. Hings have faln out, Sir, so unluckily,

That we have had no time to move our

daughter : Look you, she lov'd her kinsman Tybalt dearly, And so did I.-Well, we were born to die. 'Tis very late, she'll not come down to night. I promise you, but for your Company, I would have been a-bed an hour ago.

Par. These times of woe afford no time to wooe : Madam, good night ; commend me to your daughter.

La. Cap. I will, and know her Mind early to morrow: To night she's mew'd up to her heaviness.

Cap. Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender

my child's love: I think, she will be ruld
In all respects by me; nay more, I doubt it not.
Wife, go you to her e're you go to bed ;
Acquaint her here with my fon Paris' love,
And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next,
But, soft ; what day is this?

Par. Monday, my lord.

Cap. Monday? ha! ha! well, Wednesday is too soon, On Thursday let it be: o' Thursday, tell her, She shall be married to this noble Earl. Will you be ready? Do you like this Hafte? We'll keep no great a-dom a friend or twoFor, hark you, Tybalt being Nain fo late, It may be thought we held him carelesly, Being our kinsman, if we revel much: Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends, And there's an end. But what fay you to Thursday?

Par. My lord, I would that Thursday were to morrow.

Cap. Well, get you.gone-on Thursday be it then : Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed, [To lady Cap. Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day. Farewel, my lord light to my chamber, hoa!


'Fore me, it is so very late, that we
May call it early by and by. Good night.


SCENE, Juliet's Chamber looking to the Gar


Enter Romeo and Juliet, above at a window ; a ladder of

ropes set. Ful. ILT thou be gone? it is not yet near day:

· It was the Nightingale, and not the Lark,
That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear;
Nightly she sings on yond pomgranate tree :
Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.

Ram. It was the Lark, the herald of the morn,
No Nightingale. Look, love, what envious Atreaks
Do lace the fevering clouds in yonder eaft:
Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountains' tops.
I must be gone and live, or ftay and dye.

Jul. Yon light is not day-light, I know it well:
It is some meteor that the Sun exhales,
To be to thee this night a torch-bearer,
And light thee on thy way to Mantua ;
Then stay a while, thou fhalt not go fo foon.

Rom. Let me be ta’en, let me be put to death,
I am content, if thou wilt have it fo.
I'll say, yon gray is not the morning's eye,
'Tis but the pale regex of Cynthia's brow ;
Nor that is not the lark, whofe notes do beat
The vaulty heav'ns so high above our heads.
I have more care to stay, than will to go.
Come death, and welcome: Juliet wills it for
How is't, my Soul ? let's talk, it is not day.

Jul. It is, it is, hic bence, be gone, away:
It is the lark that fings so out of tune,
Straining harsh discords, and unpleasing laarps.
Some say, the lark makes sweet division ;
This doth not so: for the dividech us.


Suine say, the lark and loathed toad change eyes ;
O, 'now I would they had chang’d voices too!
O now be gone, more light and light it grows.
Roni. More light and light ? = More dark and dark
'our Woes.

Enter Nurse.
Nurse. Madam,
Jul. Nurse?

Nurse. Your lady mother's coming to your chamber : The day is broke, be wary, look about. [Exit Nurse.

Jul. Then, Window, let Day in, and let Life out.
Rom. Farewell, farewell; one Kiss, and I'll defcend.

[Romeo descends. Jul. Art thou gone fo? love ! lord ! ah husband !

friend! I must hear from thee ev'ry day in th' hour, For in a minute there are many days. o, by this count I shall be much in years, Ere I again behold my Romeo.

Rom. Farewel : I will omit no opportunity, That may convey my greetings, love, to thee.

Jul. O think’st thou, we shall eyer meet again?

Rom. I doubt it not ; and all these woes shall serve (25) For sweet discourses, in our time to come.

Jul. O God! I have an ill-divining foul.
Methinks, I see thee, now thou art below,
As one dead in the bottom of a tomb:
Either iny eye-light fails, or thou look’st pale.

Rom. And trust me, love, in mine eye so do you:
Dry Sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu.

[Exit Romeo. Jul. Oh fortune, fortune, all men call thee fickle :


And all these Woes fall serve For sweet Discourses in our Time to come.] This very thought is express'd by Virgil on a like Occasion ; Forfan & hæc olim meminisse juvabit.

Æneid. I. v. 203 The learned Taubman in his Note on this paffage has amassed several similar Quotations.

La. Cap. 66

If thou art fickle, what doft thou with him
That is renown'd for faith? be fickle, fortune:
For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long,
But send him back.

Enter lady Capulet.
La. Cap. Ho, daughter, , are you up?

Jul. Who is't, that calls ? is it my lady mother?
What unaccustom'd cause procures her hither?

La. Cap. Why, how now, Juliet? Jul. Madam, I am not well. La. Cap. Evermore weeping for your cousin's death? What, wilt thou wash him from his Grave with tears? An if thou could'st, thou could'st not make him live ; Therefore, have done. Some Grief shews much of Love; But much of Grief shews ftill some want of Wit.

Jul. Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss. Which you do

Jul. Feeling so the Loss, I cannot chuse, but ever weep the Friend. La. Cap. Well, girl, thou weep'ft not so much for his

As that the villain lives which Naughter'd him.

Jul. What villain, Madam?
La. Cap. That same 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 Traytor lives.

Jul. I, Madam, from the Reach of these my hands : Would, None but I might venge my Cousin's Death!

La. Cap. We will have Vengeance for it, fear Thou

weep for.


Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua,
Where That same banishid Runagate doth live,
Shall give him such an unaccuftom’d Dram,
That he shall foon keep Tybalt Company,
And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfy’d.

Jul. Indeed, I never shall be satisfied

With Romeo, till I behold him dead.
Is my poor Heart so for a Kinsman vext.
Madam, if You could find out but a Man
To bear a poyson, I would temper it ;
That Romeo should upon receipt thereof
Soon Neep in Quiet. -0, how my heart abhors
To hear him nam'd, and cannot come to him
To wreak the Love I bore my flaughter'd Coufin,
Upon his body that hath daughter'd him.
La. Cap. Find Thou the Means, and I'll find such a

But now I'll tell thee joyful Tidings, Girl.

Jul. And joy comes well in fuch a needful time.
What are they, I beseech your ladyship?

La. Cap. Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child ; One, who, to put thee from thy heaviness, Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy, That thou expect'st not, nor I look'd not for.

Jul. Madam, in happy time, what day is this?

La. Cap. Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn, The gallant, young and noble Gentleman,

The County Paris, at St. Peter's church, Shall happily make thee a joyful bride.

Jul. Now, by St. Peter's church, and Peter too, He shall not make me there a joyful bride. I wonder at this hafte, that I muit wed Ere he, that muft be husband, comes to wool, I pray you, tell my lord and facher, Madam, I will not marry yet: and when I do, It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate, Racher than Paris. - These are news, indeed ! La. Cap. Here comes your father, tell him fo your

felf, And fee, how he will take it at your hands.

Enter Capulet, and Nurse. Cap. When the Sun sers, the Air doth drizzle Dew; But for the Sunset of my Brother's Son It raines downright. How now ? a conduit, girl? what, still in tears?

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