Juliet on a Bed.
Nurse.
Mistress, what Mistress! Juliet—fast, I warrant her,
Why Lamb—why Lady—Fie you slug-a-bed—
Oh! ho! what drest and in your Cloaths 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?
Enter Lady Capulet.
L. Cap.
What Noise is here?
-- 55 --
Nurse.
O lamentable Day!
L. Cap.
What is the Matter?
Nurse.
Look—oh heavy Day!
L. Cap.
Oh me, oh me, my Child, my only Life!
Revive, look up, or I will die with thee.
Enter Capulet.
Cap.
For Shame bring Juliet forth, her Lord is come.
Nurse.
She's dead, deceas'd, she's dead, alack the Day.
Cap.
Ha! let me see her—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 the Field.
Accursed Time! unfortunate old Man!
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 the Wedding-day
Hath Death lain with thy Wife: See, there she lies,
Flower as she was, deflower'd now by him:
Death is my Son-in-law.—
Paris.
Have I thought long to see this Morning's Face,
And doth it give me such a Sight as this?
L. Cap.
Most miserable Hour that Time e'er saw
In lasting Labour of his Pilgrimage;
But one Child to rejoice and solace in,
And cruel Death hath caught it from my Sight.
Nurse.
Oh Woe most lamentable, most woeful Day.
Fri.
Peace, for shame!
Cap.
All things that we ordained Festival,
Turn from their Office to black Funeral:
Our Instruments to melancholy Bells;
Our Wedding chear to a sad Funeral Feast:
Our solemn Hymns to sullen Dirges change,
And Bridal Flowers serve for a buried Coarse.
-- 56 --
Fri.
Your Daughter lives in Peace and Happiness
And it is vain to wish it otherwise,
Heaven and yourself had part in this fair Maid,
Now Heaven hath all—
Then as the Custom of our Country is,
In all her best and sumptuous Ornaments
Convey her where her Ancestors lie tomb'd.
[Exeunt.
Theophilus Cibber [1748], Romeo and Juliet, a tragedy, Revis'd, and Alter'd from Shakespear, By Mr. Theophilus Cibber. First Reviv'd (in September, 1744,) at the Theatre in the Hay-Market: Now Acted at the Theatre-Royal in Drury-Lane... To which is added, A Serio-Comic Apology, For Part of the Life of Mr. Theophilus Cibber, Comedian. Written by Himself... Interspersed with Memoirs and Anecdotes, relating to Stage-Management, Theatrical Revolutions, &c. Also, Cursory Observations on some principal Players... Concluding with a Copy of Verses, call'd, The Contrite Comedian's Confession (Printed for C. Corbett... and G. Woodfall [etc.], London) [word count] [S37400].
