Friar.
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.

Fri.
You say you do not know the lady's mind:
Uneven is this 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 should 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 her self 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.
Look, Sir, here comes the lady tow'rds my cell. Enter Juliet.

Par.
Welcome my love, 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 ye, 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 spight.

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

Jul.
That is no slander, Sir, which is but truth,
And what I speak, I speak it to my 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.
My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now.
My lord, I must intreat the time alone.

Par.
God shield, I should disturb devotion:
Juliet farewel, and keep this holy kiss. [Exit Paris.

Jul.
Go shut the door, and when thou hast done so,
Come weep with me, past hope, past cure, past help.

Fri.
O Juliet, I already know your grief,
I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it,
On Thursday next be married to this Count.

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,
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 extreams and me this bloody knife
Shall play the umpire; arbitrating that,
Which the commission of thy years and art
Could to no issue of true honour bring:
^{a note}Speak not, be brief; for I desire to dye,
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 desp'rate which we would prevent.
If rather than to marry County Paris
Thou hast the strength or will to slay thy self,
Then it is likely thou wilt undertake
A thing like death to chide away this shame,
That cop'st with death himself, to 'scape from it:
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;
^{b note}


Or chain me to some steepy mountain's top
Where roaring bears and savage lions roam;
Or shut me nightly in a charnel house,
O'er-cover'd quite with dead mens ratling bones,
With reeky shanks, and yellow chapless skulls;
Or bid me go into a new-made grave,
And hide me with a dead man in his shroud;
Things that to hear them ^{c note}nam'd, have made me tremble;
And I will do it without fear or doubt,

To live an unstain'd wife to my sweet love.

Fri.
Hold Juliet: hye thee home, get thee to bed:
(Let not thy Nurse lye with thee in thy chamber:)
And when thou art alone, take thou this viol,
And this distilled liquor drink thou off,
When presently through all thy veins shall run
A cold and drowsie humour, which shall seize
Each vital spirit; for no pulse shall keep
His nat'ral progress, but surcease to beat.
No warmth, no breath shall testify thou livest;
The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade
To ^{d note}paly ashes; the eyes windows fall
Like death, when he shuts up the day of life;
And in this borrowed 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 rowse 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,
Be born to burial in thy kindreds grave:
Thou shalt be born to that same antient vault,
Where all the kindred of the Capulets lye.
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, and that very night
Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua;
If no unconstant toy nor womanish fear
Abate thy valour in the acting it.

Jul.
Give me, oh give me, tell not me of fear. [taking the vial.

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.
Farewel, dear father— [Exeunt. SCENE II. Capulet's House. Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, Nurse, and two or three servants.

Cap.
So many guests invite as here are writ;
Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks.* ^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.
^{e note}See where she comes from her confession.

Cap.
How now, my head-strong? where have you been gadding?

Jul.
Where I have learnt me to repent the sin
Of disobedient opposition
To you and your behests; and am enjoyn'd
By holy Lawrence, to fall prostrate here,
And beg your pardon: pardon I beseech you!
Henceforward I am ever rul'd by you,

Cap.
Send for the Count, go tell him of this,

I'll have this knot knit up to-morrow morning.

Jul.
I met the youthful lord at Lawrence' cell,
And gave him what becoming 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 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.

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 in our provision;
'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 houswife for this once. What ha?
They are all forth; well I will walk my self
To County Paris, to prepare him up
Against to-morrow. My heart's wondrous light,
Since this same way-ward girl is so reclaim'd. [Exeunt Capulet and lady Capulet. SCENE III. Juliet's Chamber. Enter Juliet and Nurse.

Jul.
Ay, those attires are best; but gentle nurse,
I pray thee leave me to my self to-night:

For I have need of many orisons
To move the heav'ns to smile upon my state,
Which well thou know'st is cross and full of sin. Enter Lady Capulet.

La. Cap.
What are you busie, 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.

&plquo;Jul.
&plquo;Farewel—God knows, when we shall meet again!
&plquo;I have a faint cold fear thrills though my veins,
&plquo;That almost freezes up the heat of ^{f note}life.
&plquo;I'll call them back again to comfort me.
&plquo;Nurse—what should she do here?
&plquo;My dismal scene I needs must act alone:
&plquo;Come vial—What if this mixture do not work at all?
&plquo;Shall I of force be marry'd to the Count.
&plquo;No, no, this shall forbid it; lye thou there— [Pointing to a dagger.
&plquo;What if it be a poison, which the Friar
&plquo;Subt'ly hath ministred, to have me dead,
&plquo;Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd,
&plquo;Because he married me before to Romeo?
&plquo;I fear it is; and yet methinks it should not,
&plquo;For he hath still been tried a holy man—
&plquo;How, if when I am laid into the tomb,
&plquo;I wake before the time that Romeo
&plquo;Comes to redeem me? there's a fearful point!

&plquo;Shall I not then be stifled in the vault,
&plquo;To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breaths in?
&plquo;Or if I live, is it not very like
&plquo;The horrible conceit of death and night,
&plquo;Together with the terror of the place,
&plquo;(As in a vault, an ancient receptacle,
&plquo;Where, for these many hundred years, the bones
&plquo;Of all my buried ancestors are packt;
&plquo;Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth,
&plquo;Lies festring in his shroud; where, as they say,
&plquo;At some hours in the night spirits resort—)
&plquo;Alas, alas! is it not like, that I
&plquo;So early waking, what with loathsome smells,
&plquo;And shrieks like mandrakes torn out of the earth,
&plquo;That living mortals hearing them run mad—
&plquo;Or if I wake, shall I not be distraught,
&plquo;(Invironed with all these hideous fears,)
&plquo;And madly play with my fore-fathers joints,
&plquo;And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud?
&plquo;And in this rage, with some great kinsman's bone
&plquo;As with a club, dash out my desp'rate brains?
&plquo;O look! methinks I see my cousin's ghost
&plquo;Seeking out Romeo—Stay, Tybalt, stay!
&plquo;Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee. [She throws herself on the bed. SCENE IV. A Hall. Enter Lady Capulet and Nurse.

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

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

Enter Capulet.

Cap.
Come, stir, stir, stir, the second cock hath crow'd,
The curphew bell hath rung, 'tis three a-clock:
Look to the bak'd meats, good Angelica.
Spare not for cost.

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

Cap.
No not a whit: what, I have watch'd ere now
All night for a less 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. [Ex. Lady Capulet and Nurse.

Cap.
A jealous-hood, a jealous-hood—
Now, fellow, what's there? Enter three or four with spits, and logs, and baskets.

Ser.
Things for the cook, Sir, but I know not what.

Cap.
Make haste, make haste, sirrah, 'fetch drier logs,
Call Peter, he will shew thee where they are.

Ser.
I have a head, Sir, that will find out logs,
And never trouble Peter for the matter.

Cap.
Mass and well said, a merry horson, ha!
Thou shalt be logger-head—good faith, 'tis day. [Play musick.
The County will be here with musick straight,
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, I say. [Exit Capulet.

SCENE V. Scene draws and discovers Juliet on a bed.

Nurse.
Mistress, what mistress! Juliet—Fast I warrant her,
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 now;
Sleep for a week; for the next night I warrant,
The County Paris hath set up his rest,
That you shall rest but little—God forgive me—
Marry and amen—How sound is she asleep?
I must needs wake her: Madam, madam, madam,
Ay, let the County take you in your bed—
He'll fright you up i'faith. Will it not be?
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?
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,—oh heavy day!

La. Cap.
Oh me, oh 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, deceast, she's dead: alack the day!

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:
&plquo;Death lies on her, like an untimely frost
&plquo;Upon the sweetest flower of the field.
Accursed time! unfortunate old man! Enter Friar Lawrence, 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.—

Par.
Have I thought long 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 Time e'er 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 catcht it from my sight.

Nurse.
Oh woe! oh woful, woful, woful day!† ^note
Most lamentable day! most woful day!
That ever, ever, I did yet behold,
Oh day! oh day! oh day! oh hateful day!
Never was seen so black a day as this:
Oh woful day! oh woful day!

Fri.
Oh peace for shame—
Your daughter lives in peace and happiness,
And it is vain to wish it otherwise.
Heav'n and your self had part in this fair maid,
Now heav'n hath all—

Come stick your rosemary on this fair corpse,
And as the custom of our country is,
In all her best and sumptuous ornaments
Convey her where her ancestors lie tomb'd.

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 burial feast;
Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change;
And bridal flow'rs serve for a buried coarse. [Exeunt. SCENE VI. Manent Musicians.

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.

Mus.
Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended. Enter Peter.

Pet.

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

Mus.

Why heart's ease?

Pet.

O musicians, because my heart it self plays, my heart is full of woe. O play me some merry dump, to comfort me!

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.

Mus.

What will you give us?

Pet.

No mony on my faith, 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 your wit.

Pet.
Then have at you with my wit, answer me like men:

When griping griefs the heart doth wound,
Then musick with her silver sound—
Why silver sound? why musick with her silver sound?
What say you, Simon Catling?

Mus.
Marry, Sir, because silver hath a sweet sound.

Pet.
^{g note}Pretty! what say you, Hugh Rebeck?

2 Mus.
I say silver sound, because musicians sound for silver.

Pet.
^{h note}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 singer, I will say for you. It is musick with her silver sound, because such fellows as you have no gold for sounding.

Mus.

What a pestilent knave is this same?

2 Mus.

Hang him, Jack, come, we'll in here, tarry for the mourners, and stay dinner.

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