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Go before, nurse; commend me to thy Lady,
And bid her haften all the house to bed,
Which heavy forrow makes them apt unto.
Romeo is coming.

Nurse. O'Lord, I could have staid here all night long,
To hear good counsel: oh, what learning is!
My Lord, I'll tell my Lady you will come.

Rom. Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide.

Nurse. Here, Sir, a ring she bid me give you, Sir: Hie you, make hafte, for it grows very late.

Rom. How well my comfort is reviv'd by this !

Fri. Sojourn in Mantua ; I'll find out your man,
And he shall signifie from time to time
Every good hap to you that chances here:
Give me thy hand, 'tis late, farewel, good-night!

Rom. But that a joy, past joy, calls out on me,
It were a grief, so brief to part with thee, [Exeunt.

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Capulet's House.
Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, and Paris.

Hings have fall’n out, Sir, so unluckily, [ter:
That we have had no time to move our daugh-

Look you, she lov'd her kinsman Tybalt dearly, And so did I-Well, we were born to die 'Tis very late, she'll not come down to-night.

Par. These times of woe afford no time to wooe:
Madam, good-night, commend me to your daughter.

Cap. Sir Paris, I will make a 'separate tender
Of my child's love: I think she will be rul'd
In all respects by me, 2'nay, I not doubt it.'
But soft ; what day is this?

Par. Monday, my Lord.


i desperate . . . old edit. Warb. emend. 2 nay more, I doubt it not.

Cap. Monday? ha! ha! well, Wednesday is too soon, On Thursday let it be : you shall be marry'd. We'll keep no great a-do-a friend or two For, hark you, Tybalt being Nain so late, It may be thought we held him carelesy, Being our kinsman, if we revel much : Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends, And there's an end. But what say you to Thursday?

Par. My Lord, I would that Thursday were to-morrow.

Cap. Well, get you gone --- on Thursday be it then : Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed, [To Lady Capulet. Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day. Farewel, my Lordlight to my chamber, hoa! Good-night.



The Garden.

Enter Romeo and Juliet above at a window; a ladder of

ropes set. Jul. W :

ILT thou be gone? it is not yet near day:
It was the Nightingale, and not the Lark,

That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear:
Nightly she sings on yond pomgranate tree :
Believe me, love, it was the Nightingale.

Rom. It was the Lark, the herald of the morn,
No Nightingale. Look, love, what envious streaks
Do lace the severing clouds in yonder eaft:
Nighi's candles are burnt out, and jocund day
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.
I must be gone and live, or stay and die.

Jul. Yon light is not day-light, I know it well :
It is some meteor that the fun exhales,
To be to thee this night a torch-bearer,
And light thee on thy way to Mantua ;
Then stay a while, thou shalt not go so foon.


Rom. Let me then stay, let me be ta’en and die ;
If thou wilt have it fo, I am content.
I'll say yon grey is not the morning's eye,
'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow;
I'll say it is the Nightingale that beats
The vaulty heav'ns so high above our heads,
And not the Lark, the messenger of morn.
Come death, and welcome : Juliet wills it so.
What says my love? let's talk, it is not day.

Jul. It is, it is, hie hence, be gone, away:
It is the lark that sings so out of tune,
Straining harsh discords, and unpleasing sharps.
Some say the lark makes sweet division;
This doth not so: for she divideth us.
Some fay, the lark and loathed toad change eyes,
O now i'I wot they have chang'd voices too.
O now be gone, more light and light it grows.
Rom. Farewel, my love : one kiss, and I'll descend.

[Romeo descends. Enter Nurse. Nurse. Madam! Jul. Nurse?

Nurse. Your Lady mother's coming to your chamber : The day is broke, be wary, look abous.

Jul. Art thou gone fo? love! Lord ! ah husband! friend! I must hear from thee ev'ry day in th' hour, For in a minute there are many days. O by this count I shall be much in years, Ere I again behold my Romeo.

Rom. Farewel : I will omit no opportunity, That may convey my greetings, love, to thee.

Jul. Ó think’it thou we shall ever meet again?

Rom. I doubt it not, and all these woes shall serve For sweet discourses in our time to come.

Jul. (a). Alluding to the notion of the vulgar because the lark with a fiveet pipe hath litile ugly eyes, and the road large and fine eyes but a dismal croaking voice.

Warburton. 3 I would they had ... old edit. Warb. emend.

Jul. O God! I have an ill-divining soul;
Methinks I see thee, now thou art below,
As one dead in the bottom of a tomb :
Either my eye-light fails, or thou look'st pale.

Rom. And trust me, love, in mine eye lo do you :
Dry Sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu! (Exeunt.


Juliet's Chamber.

Enter Juliet.
H fortune, fortune, all men call thee fickle:

with him
That is renown'd for faith? be fickle, fortune :
For then I hope thou wilt not keep him long,
But fend him back.

Enter Lady Capulet. La. Cap. Ho, daughter, are you up?

Jul. Who is't that calls ? is it my Lady mother?
What unaccuftom'd cause 4'provokes her hither ?

La. Cap. Why, how now, Juliet ?
Jul. Madam, I'm not well.

La. Cap. Evermore weeping for your cousin's death? What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears?

Jul. Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss. [death,

La. Cap. Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his As that the villain lives which Naughter'd him.

Jul. What villain, Madam ?
La. Cap. 5'That villain,' Romeo.
Jul. Villain and he are many miles asunder. [Alide.

La. Cap. Content thee, girl. If I could find a man,
I foon would send to Mantua where he is,
And give him such an unaccustom'd dram
That he should foon keep Tybalt company.

Jul. 4 procures

5 That same villain,

Jul. Find you the means, and I'll find such a man ;
For while he lives, my heart shall ne'er be light
'Till I behold him dead is my poor heart,
Thus for a kinsman vext.

La. Cap. Well, let that pass.
I come to bring thee joyful tidings, girl.

Jul. And joy comes well in such a needful time.
What are they, I beseech your Ladyship?

La. Cap. Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child; One, who to put thee from thy heaviness, Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy, That thou expectft not, nor I look'd not for.

Jul. Madam, in happy time, what day is this?

La. Cap. Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn,
The gallant, young, and noble gentleman,
The County Paris, at St. Peter's church,
Shall happily make thee a joyful bride.

Jul. Now, by St. Peter's church, and Peter too,
He shall not make me there a joyful bride.
I wonder at this hafte, that I must wed
Ere he that must be husband comes to wooe.
I pray you, tell my Lord and father, Madam,
I will not marry yet, and when I do,
It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate,
Rather than Paris. These are news indeed.

La. Cap. Here comes your father, tell him so your self, And see how he will take it at your hands.

Enter Capulet and Nurse. Cap. How. now? a conduit, girl? what, still in tears? Evermore show'ring? in one little body Thou counterfeitft a bark, a sea, a wind; For ftill thy eyes, which I may call the sea, Do ebb and low with tears; the bark thy 6'body Sailing in this falt flood: the winds thy sighs, Which raging with thy tears, and they with them, Without a sudden calm, will overset


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