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

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

Fri. L.
You say you do not know the lady's mind:

Uneven is ^note the course; I like it not.

Par.
Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death,
And therefore have I little talk'd ^note of love,
For Venus smiles not in a house of tears.
Now, sir, her father counts it dangerous
That she doth ^note give her sorrow so much sway ^note,
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. ^note

Fri. L. [Aside ^note]
I would I knew not why it should be slow'd.
Look, sir, here comes the lady toward ^note my cell. Enter Juliet.

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

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. L.
That's a certain text.

Par.
Come you to make confession to this father?

Jul.
To answer that, I should ^note 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 ye ^note, I am sure, that you love me.

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

Par.
Poor soul, thy face is much abused 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 ^note slander, sir, which is a truth ^{note note},
And what I spake, I spake ^note it to my ^note face.

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?

Fri. L.
My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now.
My lord, we ^note must entreat the time alone.

Par.
God shield I ^note should disturb devotion!
Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse ye:
Till then, adieu, and keep this holy kiss. ^note [Exit. ^note

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

Fri. L.
Ah ^note, Juliet, I already know thy ^note grief;
It strains ^note me past the compass of my wits ^note:
I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it,
On Thursday next be married to this county ^note.

Jul.
Tell me not, friar, that thou hear'st ^note 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 ^note 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's ^note seal'd,

Shall be the label to another deed,
Or my true heart with treacherous revolt
Turn to another, this shall slay them both:
Therefore, out of thy long-experienced ^note time,
Give me some present counsel; or, behold,
'Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife
Shall play the umpire ^note, arbitrating that
Which the commission of thy ^note years and art
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.

Fr. L.
Hold, daughter: I do spy a kind of hope,
Which craves as desperate an ^note 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 ^note thyself,
Then is it ^note likely thou wilt undertake
A thing like death to chide away this shame,
That copest ^note with death himself to 'scape from ^note it; ^note
And, if ^note thou darest, I'll give thee remedy.

Jul.
O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris,
From off ^note the battlements of yonder ^note tower;
Or walk in thievish ways; or bid me lurk
Where serpents are; chain me with roaring bears ^note;
Or shut ^note me nightly in a charnel-house,
O'er-cover'd ^note quite with dead men's rattling bones,

With reeky ^note shanks and yellow ^note chapless ^note skulls;
Or bid me go into a new-made grave,
And hide me with a dead man in his shroud ^note;
Things that to hear them told ^note, have made me tremble;
And I will do it without fear or doubt,
To live an unstain'd ^note wife to my sweet love.

Fri. L.
Hold, then; go home, be merry, give consent
To marry Paris: Wednesday ^note is to-morrow;
To-morrow night look that thou lie alone,
Let not thy nurse ^note lie with thee in thy chamber:
Take thou this vial, being then in bed ^note,
And this distilled ^note liquor drink thou off:
When presently through all thy veins shall run
A cold and drowsy humour; for no pulse
Shall keep his native progress, but surcease ^note:
No warmth, no breath ^note, shall testify thou livest;
The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade ^note
To paly ^note ashes; thy ^note eyes' windows fall;
Like death, when he shuts ^note up the day of life;
Each part, deprived of supple government,
Shall, stiff and stark and cold, appear like death ^note:
And in this borrow'd ^note likeness of shrunk death
Thou shalt continue two and forty hours,
And then awake as from a pleasant sleep.
Now, when the bridegroom in the morning comes
To rouse thee ^note from thy bed, there art thou dead:

Then, as the manner of our country is,
In ^note thy best robes uncover'd ^note on the bier ^note
Thou shalt ^note be borne to that same 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 ^note, and that very night
Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua.
And this shall free thee from this present shame ^note,
If no inconstant ^note toy ^note nor womanish fear
Abate thy valour in the acting it. ^note

Jul.
Give me, give me! O, tell not me ^note of fear ^note!

Fri. L.
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 ^note.
Farewell, dear father! [Exeunt. ^{note note} Scene II. [Footnote: Hall ^note in Capulet's house. Enter ^note Capulet, Lady Capulet, Nurse, and two Servingmen.

Cap.
So many guests invite as here are writ. [Exit ^note First Servant.

Sirrah, go hire me twenty ^note cunning cooks.

Sec. Serv. ^note

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

Cap.

How canst thou try them so?

Sec. Serv. ^note

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

Cap.
Go, be gone. ^note [Exit ^note Sec. Servant.
We shall be much unfurnish'd for this time.
What, is my daughter gone to Friar Laurence? ^note

Nurse.
Ay, forsooth.

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

Nurse.
See where she comes from shrift with merry look ^note. ^note

Cap.
How now, my headstrong! where have you been gadding? ^note

Jul.
Where I have learn'd me ^note to repent the sin
Of disobedient opposition
To you and your behests, and am enjoin'd ^note
By holy Laurence to fall prostrate here,
To beg ^note your pardon: pardon, I beseech you!
Henceforward I am ever ruled by you.

Cap.
Send for the county ^note; 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 ^note love 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 ^note should be. Let me see the county;
Ay, marry, go, I say, and fetch him hither ^note.
Now, afore God, this reverend holy ^note friar,
All our whole city is much bound to him ^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 ^note time enough.

Cap.
Go, nurse, go with her: we'll to church tomorrow. ^{note note} [Exeunt Juliet and Nurse. ^note

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

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 ^note
Against to-morrow: my heart is ^note wondrous light,
Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim'd. [Exeunt. ^note

^note Scene III. [Footnote: Juliet's chamber. ^note Enter Juliet and Nurse.

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

La. Cap. ^note
What, are you busy, ho? need you ^note my help?

Jul.
No, madam; we have cull'd such necessaries
As are behoveful ^note 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. ^note
Good night:
Get thee to bed and rest, for thou hast need. [Exeunt Lady Capulet and Nurse. ^note

Jul.
Farewell! ^note God knows when we shall meet again.
I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins,
That almost freezes up the heat of life ^note:
I'll call them back again ^note to comfort me.
Nurse!— ^note What should she do here?
My dismal scene I needs must act alone.

Come, vial ^note.
What ^note if this mixture do not work at all?
Shall I be married then ^note? to-morrow morning ^note
No, no: this shall forbid it. Lie ^note thou there. [Laying ^note down a dagger.
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 ^note man. ^note
How if, when I am laid into the tomb,
I wake before the time that Romeo
Come ^note to redeem me? there's a fearful point.
Shall I not then be stifled ^note in the vault,
To whose foul mouth ^note no healthsome air breathes in,
And there die ^note strangled ere my Romeo comes? ^note
Or, if I live, is it ^note not very like,
The horrible conceit of death and night,
Together ^note with the terror of the place,
As in a vault, an ancient receptacle,
Where for this ^note many hundred years the bones
Of all my buried ancestors are pack'd;
Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth,
Lies festering in his shroud; where, as they say,
At some hours in the night spirits resort;
Alack, alack ^note, is it not like that I

So early waking, what with loathsome smells
And shrieks ^note like mandrakes' ^note torn out of the earth,
That living mortals hearing them run mad:
O, if I wake ^note, shall I not be distraught,
Environed ^note with all these hideous fears?
And madly play with my forefathers' joints ^note?
And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud?
And, in this rage, with some great kinsman's ^note bone,
As with a club, dash out my desperate brains?
O, look! methinks I see my cousin's ghost
Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body
Upon a ^note rapier's point ^note: stay, Tybalt, stay! ^note
Romeo, I come! this do ^note I drink to thee ^note. [She falls upon her bed, within the curtains. ^{note note} Scene IV. [Footnote: Hall ^note in Capulet's house. Enter Lady Capulet ^note and Nurse.

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

Nurse.
They call for dates and quinces in the pastry.

^noteEnter Capulet. ^note

Cap.
Come, stir, stir, stir! the second cock hath crow'd ^{note note},
The curfew-bell hath rung ^note, 'tis three o'clock ^note:
Look to the baked meats, good Angelica:
Spare not for cost.

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

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

La. Cap.
Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt in your time;
But I will watch you from such watching now. [Exeunt ^note Lady Capulet and Nurse.

Cap.
A jealous-hood ^note, a jealous-hood! Enter three or four Servingmen ^note, with spits, and logs, and baskets.
Now, fellow,
What's ^note there? ^note

First Serv. ^note
Things for the cook, sir, but I know not what.

Cap.
Make haste, make haste. [Exit ^note First Serv.] Sirrah, fetch drier logs:
Call Peter, he will show thee where they are.

Sec. Serv. ^note
I have a head, sir, that will find out logs,
And never trouble Peter for the matter.

Cap.
Mass, and well said; a merry whoreson, ha!
Thou shalt be logger-head. [Exit Sec. Serv. ^note] Good faith ^note, 'tis day:
The county will be here with music straight,
For so he said he would. [Music within ^note] I hear him near.
Nurse! Wife! What, ho! What, nurse, I say! Re-enter Nurse. ^note
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: ^note
Make haste, I say. ^note [Exeunt. ^{note note} Scene V. [Footnote: Juliet's chamber. ^note Enter Nurse. ^note

Nurse.
Mistress! what, mistress! Juliet! fast, I warrant her, she ^note:
Why, lamb! why, lady! fie, you slug-a-bed!
Why, love, I say! madam! sweet-heart! why, bride!
What, not a word? you take your pennyworths ^note now;
Sleep for a week; for the next night, I warrant,
The County Paris hath set up his rest
That you shall ^note rest but little. God forgive me, ^note

Marry, and amen, how sound is she asleep! ^note
I needs must ^note wake her. Madam, madam, madam!
Ay, let the county take you in your bed;
He'll fright ^note you up, i' faith. Will it not be? [Undraws the curtains. ^note
What, dress'd! and in your clothes! and down again! ^note
I must needs wake ^note you. Lady! lady! lady!
Alas, alas! Help, help! my lady's dead!
O, well-a-day ^note, that ever I was born!
Some aqua-vitæ, ho! My lord! my lady! Enter Lady Capulet. ^note

La. Cap.
What noise is here?

Nurse.
O lamentable day!

La. Cap.
What is the matter?

Nurse.
Look, look ^note! 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. ^note

Cap.
For shame, bring Juliet forth; her lord is come.

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

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

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 ^note the field. ^note

Nurse.
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. ^note Enter ^note Friar Laurence and Paris, with Musicians.

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

Cap.
Ready to go, but never to return.
O son, the night before thy ^note wedding-day
Hath death lain with thy wife ^note: see ^note, there she lies,
Flower as she was, deflowered ^note by him.
Death is my son-in-law, death is my heir;
My daughter he hath wedded: I will die,
And leave him all; life, living, ^note all is Death's ^note.

Par.
Have I thought long ^note to see this morning's face,
And doth it give me such a sight as this?

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

Nurse.
O woe! O woeful, woeful, woeful day!
Most lamentable day, most woeful day,

That ever, ever, I did yet behold ^note!
O day! O day! O day! O hateful day!
Never was seen so black a day as this:
O woeful day, O woeful day!

Par.
Beguiled, divorced, wronged, spited, slain!
Most detestable death, by thee beguiled,
By cruel cruel thee quite overthrown!
O love! O life! not life, but love in death!

Cap.
Despised, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd!
Uncomfortable time, why camest thou now
To murder, murder our solemnity?
O child! O child! my soul, and not my child!
Dead art thou! ^note Alack, my child is dead;
And with my child my joys are buried ^note!

Fri. L.
12Q0612Peace, ho, for shame! confusion's cure ^note lives ^note 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 ^note should be advanced:
And weep ye now, seeing she is advanced
Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself ^note?
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 ^note young ^note.
Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary
On this fair corse, and, as the custom is,
In all ^note her best array bear her to church:

For though fond ^note nature bids us all ^note lament,
Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment.

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

Fri. L.
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 lour upon you for some ill;
Move them no more by crossing their high will. ^note [Exeunt ^note Capulet, Lady Capulet, Paris, and Friar. ^note

First Mus. ^note
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 ^note case. [Exit. ^note

First Mus. ^note
Ay, by my ^note troth, the case may be amended. ^noteEnter Peter. ^note

Pet. ^note

Musicians, O, musicians, ‘Heart's ease, Heart's ^note ease:’ O, an you ^note will have me live, play ^note ‘Heart's ^note ease. ^note’

First Mus. ^note

Why ‘Heart's ease’?

Pet.

O, musicians, because my heart itself plays ‘My heart is full of woe ^note:’ O, play me some merry dump, to comfort me. ^note

First Mus. ^note

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

Pet.

You will not then?

First Mus. ^note

No.

Pet.

I will then give it you soundly.

First Mus.

What will you give us?

Pet.

No money, on my faith, but the gleek; I will give you the minstrel ^note. ^note

First Mus.

Then will I give you the serving-creature.

Pet.

Then will I lay ^note the serving-creature's dagger on your pate. I will carry no crotchets: ^note I'll re you, I'll fa you; do you note me? ^note

First Mus.

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

Sec. Mus.

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

Pet.

Then have at you with my wit! ^note I will dry-beat you with an iron wit ^note, and put up my iron dagger. ^note Answer me like men:

  ‘When griping grief ^note the heart doth wound
  And doleful dumps the mind oppress, ^note

  Then music with her silver sound’— ^note

why ‘silver sound’? why ‘music with her silver sound’?— What say you, Simon Catling?

First Mus. ^note

Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound.

Pet.

Pretty! ^note What say you, Hugh Rebeck ^note?

Sec. Mus.

I say, ‘silver sound,’ because musicians sound for silver.

Pet.

Pretty too! ^note What say you, James Soundpost ^note?

Third Mus.

Faith, I know not what to say.

Pet.

O, I cry you mercy; you are the singer: I will say for you. It is ‘music with her silver sound,’ because musicians ^note have no gold ^note for sounding: ^note

  ‘Then music with her silver sound
  With speedy help doth lend redress. ^note’ [Exit. ^note

First Mus. ^note

What a pestilent knave is this same!

Sec. Mus.

Hang him, Jack! ^note Come, we'll in here; tarry for the mourners, and stay dinner.

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