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Pet. O musicians, because my heart it self plays, my heart it self 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. No mony, on my faith, but the gleek: I will give you the Minstrell.
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 Crochets. I'll re you, I'll fa you, do you note me?
Mus. An you re us, and fa us, you note us. 2 Mus. Pray you, put up your dagger, and put out
Pet. Then have at you with my wit: I will dry-beat you with an iron Wit, and put up my iron dagger :answer me like men: When griping griefs the heart doth wound, Then music with her silver foundWhy, filver found? why, musick with her silver found ? Why say you, Simon Catling?
Muf. Marry, Sir, because silver hath a sweet sound. Pet. Pretty! what say you, Hugh Rebeck ?
2 Muf. I say, silver found, because musicians found for silver.
Pet. Pretty too! what say you, Samuel Sound-board? 3 Mus. Faith, I know not what to say.
Pet. O, I cry you mercy, you are the finger, I will say for you. It is musick with her silver sound, because such fellows, as you, have no gold for founding. The Musick with her silver Sound Doth lend Redress.
[Exit, singing. Mus. What a pestilent knave is this fame?
2 Muf. Hang him, Jack ; come, we'll in here, tarry for the mourners, and stay dinner,
SCENE, : in MANTU A.
F I may trust the flattering Truth of
My bosom's Lord sits lightly on his Throne,
-- Enter Balthazar.
Balth. Then she is well, and nothing can be ill;
(28) If I may trust the flatt'ring Truth of Sleep.] i.e. If I may believe those Dreams ; if I may confide in their flattering Tenour, as in a Promise of Truth. * VOL. VII.
did leave it for my Office, Sir.
Balth. Pardon me, Sir, I dare not leave you thus.
Rom. Tush, thou art deceivá; 1 I 2??
Balıb. No, good my lord.
Rom. No matter : Get thee gone,
Need and oppression
c) 2. Sod Rom. Come hither, man ; I see, that thou art poor ; Hold, there is forty ducats: let me have A dram of poison, such foon-speeding geer, As will disperse it self throʻ all the veins, That the life-weary Taker may fall dead; And that the trunk may be discharg'd of breath, As violently, as hasty powder fir'd Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb.
Ap. Such mortal drugs I have, buţ Mantua's law
Rom. Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness,
Ap. My poverty, but not my will, consencs.
Ap. Put this in any liquid thing you will, And drink it off, and, if you had the strength Of cwenty men, it would dispatch you straight.
Rom. There is thy gold ; worfe poison to mens souls, Doing more murthers in this Joathsome world, Than these poor compounds that thou may'st not sell; I sell thee poison, thou hast sold me none. Farewell, buy food, and get thee into fesh. Come, cordial, and not poison, go with me To Juliet's Grave, for there must I use thee. [Exeunt.
SCENE changes to tbe Monastery at Verona.
Enter Friar John. Jobn. TOLY Franciscan Friar! brother ! ho ! :
Enter Fryar Lawrence to bim.
Jobn. Going to find a bare-foot brother out,
Law. Who bore my letter then to Romeo?
Jobn. I could not fend it; here it is again,
Law. Unhappy fortune ! by my Brotherhood,
Jobn. Brother, I'll go and bring it thee. (Exit.
Law, Now must I to the Monument alone: