Fri.
On Thursday, sir? the time is very short.

Par.
My father Capulet will have it so;
And I am nothing slow, to slack his haste^{9 note}

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

Par.
Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death,
And therefore have I little talk'd of love;
For Venus smiles not in a house of tears.
Now, sir, her father counts it dangerous,
That she doth give her sorrow so much sway;
And, in his wisdom, hastes our marriage,
To stop the inundation of her tears;
Which, too much minded by herself alone,
May be put from her by society:
Now do you know the reason of this haste.

Fri.
I would I knew not why it should be slow'd^{1 note}

. [Aside.
Look, sir, here comes the lady towards my cell. Enter Juliet.

Par.
Happily met, my lady, and my wife!

Jul.
That may be, sir, when I may be a wife.

Par.
That may be, must be, love, on Thursday next.

Jul.
What must be shall be.

Fri.
That's a certain text.

Par.
Come you to make confession to this father?

Jul.
To answer that, were to confess to you.

Par.
Do not deny to him, that you love me.

Jul.
I will confess to you, that I love him.

Par.
So will you, I am sure, that you love me.

Jul.
If I do so, it will be of more price,
Being spoke behind your back, than to your face.

Par.
Poor soul, thy face is much abus'd with tears.

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

Par.
Thou wrong'st it, more than tears, with that report.

Jul.
That is no slander, sir^{2 note}

Par.
Thy face is mine, and thou hast slander'd it.

Jul.
It may be so, for it is not mine own.—
Are you at leisure, holy father, now;
Or shall I come to you at evening mass^{3 note}?

Fri.
My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now:—
My lord, we must entreat the time alone.

Par.
God shield, I should disturb devotion!—
Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse you;
Till then, adieu! and keep this holy kiss. [Exit Paris.

Jul.
O, shut the door! and when thou hast done so,
Come weep with me; Past hope, past cure* ^note, past help!

Fri.
Ah, Juliet, I already know thy grief;

It strains me past the compass of my wits:

I hear thou must, and nothing must 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 wisdom, thou canst give no help,
Do thou but call my resolution wise,
And with this knife I'll help it presently.
God join'd my heart and Romeo's, thou our hands;
And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo seal'd,
Shall be the label to another deed^{4 note}
,
Or my true heart with treacherous revolt
Turn to another, this shall slay them both:
Therefore, out of thy long-experienc'd time,

Give me some present counsel; or, behold,
'Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife
Shall play the umpire^{5 note}; arbitrating that
Which the commission of thy years and art^{6 note}
Could to no issue of true honour bring.
Be not so long to speak; I long to die* ^note,
If what thou speak'st speak not of remedy.

Fri.
Hold, daughter; I do spy a kind of hope,
Which craves as desperate an execution
As that is desperate
which
we would prevent.

If, rather than to marry county Paris,
Thou hast the strength of will* ^note to slay thyself:
Then is it likely, thou wilt undertake
A thing like death to chide away this shame,
That cop'st with death himself to scape from it† ^note;
And, if thou dar'st, I'll give thee remedy.

Jul.
O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris,
From off the battlements of yonder tower^{7 note}

O'er-cover'd quite with dead men's rattling bones,
With reeky shanks, and yellow chapless sculls;
Or bid me go into a new-made grave,
And hide me with a dead man in his shroud^{9 note}

Fri.
Hold, then; go home* ^note,
be merry, give consent
To marry Paris: Wednesday is to-morrow;
To-morrow night look that thou lie alone,

Let not thy nurse lie with thee in thy chamber:
Take thou this phial^{2 note}

And this distilled liquor drink thou off:
When, presently, through all thy veins shall run
A cold and drowsy humour^{3 note}
, which shall seize
Each vital spirit; for no pulse shall keep
His natural progress, but surcease to beat:
No warmth, no breath* ^note, shall testify thou liv'st;

The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade

To paly ashes^{4 note}

And then awake as from a pleasant sleep.
Now when the bridegroom in the morning comes
To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead:
Then (as the manner of our country is,)
In thy best robes uncover'd on the bier^{7 note}

Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua.
And this shall free thee from this present shame;
If no unconstant toy^{9 note}

Jul.
Give me, give me! O tell me not of fear* ^{note 1 note}
;

Fri.
Hold; get you gone, be strong and prosperous
In this resolve: I'll send a friar with speed
To Mantua, with my letters to thy lord.

Jul.
Love, give me strength! and strength shall help afford.
Farewell, dear father! [Exeunt. SCENE II. A Room in Capulet's House. Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, Nurse, and Servant.

Cap.
So many guests invite as here are writ.— [Exit Servant.

Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks^{2 note}

2 Serv.

You shall have none ill, sir; for I'll try if they can lick their fingers.

Cap.

How canst thou try them so?

2 Serv.

Marry, sir, 'tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers^{3 note}

: therefore he, that cannot lick his fingers, goes not with me.

Cap.
Go, begone.— [Exit Servant.

We shall be much unfurnish'd for this time.—

What, is my daughter gone to Friar Laurence^{4 note}




?

Nurse.
Ay, forsooth.

Cap.
Well, he may chance to do some good on her:
A peevish self-will'd harlotry it is. Enter Juliet.

Nurse.
See, where she comes from shrift^{5 note}

Cap.
How now, my headstrong? where have you been gadding^{6 note}?

Jul.
Where I have learn'd me to repent the sin
Of disobedient opposition
To you, and your behests; and am enjoin'd
By holy Laurence to fall prostrate here^{7 note}






















,
And beg your pardon:—Pardon, I beseech you!
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^{8 note} I might,
Not stepping o'er the bounds of modesty.

Cap.
Why, I am glad on't; this is well,—stand up:
This is as't should be.—Let me see 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^{9 note}

Jul.
Nurse, will you go with me into my closet,
To help me sort such needful ornaments
As you think fit to furnish me to-morrow?

La. Cap.
No, not till Thursday; there is time enough.

Cap.
Go, nurse, go with her:—we'll to church to-morrow. [Exeunt Juliet and Nurse.

La. Cap.
We shall be short^{1 note} in our provision:
'Tis now near night^{2 note}

Cap.
Tush! I will stir about,
And all things shall be well, I warrant thee, wife:
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 wond'rous light,
Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim'd. [Exeunt SCENE III. Juliet's Chamber. Enter Juliet and Nurse^{3 note}


.

Jul.
Ay, those attires are best:—But, gentle nurse,
I pray thee, leave me to myself to-night;
For I have need of many orisons^{4 note}

To move the heavens to smile upon my state,
Which, well thou know'st, is cross and full of sin. Enter Lady Capulet^{5 note}




.

La. Cap.
What, are you busy? do you need my help?

Jul.
No, madam; we have cull'd such necessaries
As are behoveful for our state to-morrow:
So please you, let me now be left alone,
And let the nurse this night sit up with you;
For, I am sure, you have your hands full all,
In this so sudden business.

La. Cap.
Good night!
Get thee to bed, and rest; for thou hast need. [Exeunt Lady Capulet and Nurse.

Jul.
Farewell^{6 note}!—God knows, when we shall meet again* ^note.

I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins,
That almost freezes up the heat of life^{7 note}










:
I'll call them back again to comfort me;—
Nurse!—What should she do here?
My dismal scene I needs must act alone.—
Come, phial.—

What if this mixture do not work at all^{8 note}

Must I of force be married to the county^{9 note}

What if it be a poison, which the friar
Subtly hath minister'd to have me dead;
Lest 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 still been tried a holy man:
I will not entertain so bad a thought^{2 note}.—
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 stifled in the vault,
To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in,
And there die strangled 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^{3 note},

Where, for these many hundred years, the bones
Of all my buried ancestors are pack'd;
Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth^{4 note}

O! if I wake, shall I not be distraught^{8 note}

SCENE IV. Capulet's Hall. Enter Lady Capulet and Nurse.

La. Cap.
Hold, take these keys, and fetch more spices, nurse.

Nurse.
They call for dates and quinces in the pastry^{1 note}

Cap.
Come, stir, stir, stir! the second cock hath crow'd,
The curfeu bell^{2 note}

Spare not for cost.

Nurse.
Go, go, you cot-quean, go.
Get you to bed; 'faith, you'll be sick to-morrow* ^note
For this night's watching.

Cap.
No, not a whit; What! I have watch'd ere now
All night for lesser cause, and ne'er been sick.

La. Cap.
Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt^{4 note}

Cap.
A jealous-hood, a jealous-hood!—Now, fellow,
What's there? Enter Servants, with Spits, Logs, and Baskets.

1 Serv.
Things for the cook, sir; but I know not what.

Cap.
Make haste, make haste. [Exit 1 Serv.]—Sirrah, fetch drier logs;
Call Peter, he will show thee where they are.

2 Serv.
I have a head, sir, that will find out logs,

And never trouble Peter for the matter.
[Exit.

Cap.
'Mass, and well said; A merry whoreson! ha,
Thou shalt be logger-head.—Good 'faith, 'tis day:
The county will be here with musick straight, [Musick within.
For so he said he would. I hear him near:—
Nurse!—Wife!—what, ho!—what, nurse, I say! Enter Nurse.
Go, waken Juliet, go, and trim her up;
I'll go and chat with Paris:—Hie, make haste,
Make haste! the bridegroom he is come already:
Make haste, I say^{5 note}



! [Exeunt. SCENE V. Juliet's Chamber; Juliet on the Bed. Enter Nurse.

Nurse.
Mistress!—what, mistress!—Juliet!—fast, I warrant her, she:—
Why, lamb!—why, lady!—fye, you slug-a-bed!—
Why, love, I say!—madam! sweet-heart!—why, bride!—

What, not a word?—you take your pennyworths now;
Sleep for a week; for the next night, I warrant,
The county Paris hath set up his rest^{6 note}

Ay, let the county take you in your bed^{7 note}


:
He'll fright you up, i'faith.—Will it not be?
What, drest! 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.

La. Cap.
What noise is here?

Nurse.
O lamentable day!

La. Cap.
What is the matter!

Nurse.
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 shame, bring Juliet forth; her lord is come.

Nurse.
She's dead, deceas'd, she's dead; alack the day!

La. Cap.
Alack the day! she's dead, she's dead, she's dead.

Cap.
Ha! let me see her:—Out, alas! she's cold;
Her blood is settled, 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 all the field.
Accursed time^{8 note}! unfortunate old man!

Nurse.
O lamentable day!

La. Cap.
O woful time!

Cap.
Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail,
Ties up my tongue, and will not let me speak^{9 note}




. Enter Friar Laurence and Paris, with Musicians.

Fri.
Come, is the bride ready to go to church?

Cap.
Ready to go, but never to return:
O son, the night before thy wedding day
Hath death lain with thy bride^{1 note}

Flower as she was, deflowered by him^{2 note}.
Death is my son-in-law^{3 note}, death is my heir:
My daughter he hath wedded! I will die,
And leave him all; life leaving, all is death's^{4 note}.

Par.
Have I thought long to see this morning's face^{5 note}






,
And doth it give me such a sight as this?

La. Cap.
Accurs'd, unhappy, wretched, hateful day!
Most miserable hour, that e'er time saw
In lasting labour of his pilgrimage!
But one, poor one, one poor and loving child,
But one thing to rejoice and solace in,
And cruel death hath catch'd it from my sight.

Nurse.
O woe, O woful, woful, woful day^{6 note}

Most lamentable day! most woful day,
That ever, ever, I did yet behold!
O day! O day! O day! O hateful day!
Never was seen so black a day as this:
O woful day, O woful day!

Par.
Beguil'd, divorced, wronged, spited, slain!
Most détestable death, by thee beguil'd,
By cruel cruel thee quite overthrown!—
O love! O life!—not life, but love in death!

Cap.
Despis'd, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd!—
Uncomfortable time! why cam'st thou now
To murder murder our solemnity?—
O child! O child!—my soul, and not my child!—
Dead art thou^{7 note}

Fri.
Peace, ho, for shame! confusion's cure^{8 note}
lives not
In these confusions. Heaven and yourself
Had part in this fair maid; now heaven hath all,
And all the better is it for the maid:
Your part in her you could not keep from death;
But heaven keeps his part in eternal life.
The most you sought was—her promotion;

For 'twas your heaven, she should be advanc'd:
And weep ye now, seeing she is advanc'd,
Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself?
O, in this love, you love your child so ill,
That you run mad, seeing that she is well:
She's not well married, that lives married long;
But she's best married, that dies married young.
Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary
On this fair corse; and, as the custom is,
In all her best array bear her to church:
For though fond nature^{9 note}

Cap.
All things^{1 note}

Turn from their office to black funeral:
Our instruments, to melancholy bells;
Our wedding cheer, to a sad burial feast^{2 note};
Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change;
Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse,
And all things change them to the contrary.

Fri.
Sir, go you in,—and, madam, go with him;—
And go, sir Paris;—every one prepare
To follow this fair corse unto her grave:
The heavens do low'r upon you, for some ill;
Move them no more, by crossing their high will. [Exeunt Capulet, Lady Capulet, Paris, and Friar.

1 Mus.

'Faith, we may put up our pipes, and be gone.

Nurse.
Honest good fellows, ah, put up, put up;
For, well you know, this is a pitiful case^{3 note}. [Exit Nurse.

1 Mus.

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

Pet.

Musicians, O, musicians, Heart's ease, heart's ease: O, an you will have me live, play— heart's ease.

1 Mus.

Why heart's ease?

Pet.

O, musicians, because my heart itself plays

—My heart is full of woe^{5 note}
: O, play me some merry dump, to comfort me^{6 note}

2 Mus.

Not a dump we; 'tis no time to play now.

Pet.

You will not then?

Mus.

No.

Pet.

I will then give it you soundly.

1 Mus.

What will you give us?

Pet.

No money, on my faith; but the gleek^{7 note}

1 Mus.

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?

1 Mus.

An you re us, and fa us, you note us.

2 Mus.

Pray you, put up your dagger, and put out your wit.

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: