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Nurse.

Look, look! O heavy day! L. 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, deceased; she's dead: alack

the day! L. 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! unfortunate old man !
Nurse. O lamentable day!

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.

L. Cap.

Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and PARIS, with Musicians. F. Lau. 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 :-see, there she

lies, Flower as she was, deflowered 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 leaving, all is death's. Pa. Have I thought long to see this morning's

face, And doth it give me such a sight as this ? L. Cap. Accursed, unhappy, wretched, hateful

day!
Most miserable hour, that e'er time saw
In lasting labor 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!
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.
0 woful day! 0 woful day!

Pa. 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 ?-alack! my child is dead;

And, with my child, my joys are buried !
F. Lau. Peace, ho, for shame! confusion's cure

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 advanced :
And weep ye now, seeing she is advanced,
Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself?
0, 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 bids us all lament,
Yet Nature's tears are Reason's merriment.

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

him; And go, sir Paris; every one prepare

Julut, Capula, Laty, Capulet Friar ko

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