Thou shalt 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, and that very night,
Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua.
And this shall free thee from this present shame,
If no inconstant toy, nor womanish fear,
Abate thy valour in the acting it.

JUL. Give me, give me! O tell me not of fear.*

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.

SCENE II-A Room in Capulet's House. Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, Nurse, and Servants.

CAP. So many guests invite as here are writ. [Exit Servant. Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks.

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

CAP. How canst thou try them so?

2 SERV. 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, begone.—

[Exit Servant.

By holy Laurence to fall prostrate here, (3)
To beg your pardon :-pardon, I beseech you!
Henceforward I am ever rul'd by you.

CAP. Send for the county; 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 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.

САР.
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 up him*
Against to-morrow: my heart is wondrous light,
Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim'd.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.-Juliet's Chamber.

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, is cross and full of sin.

Enter LADY CAPULET.

LA. CAP. What, are you busy, ho? need you my help?

JUL. No, madam; we have cull'd such necessaries,

(*) First folio, him up.

b Lick his own fingers:] An old saw quoted by Puttenhani in his "Arte of English Poesie, 1589," p. 157,

"As the olde cocke crowes so doeth the chick:
A bad cooke that cannot his owne fingers lick."

Get thee to bed, and rest; for thou hast need.
JUL. Farewell!—

[Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse.
God knows, when we shall meet again.
I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins,(4)
That almost freezes up the heat of life:*
I'll call them back again to comfort me ;—
Nurse-what should she do here?

My dismal scene I needs must act alone.—
Come, phial.-

What if this mixture do not work at all?
Shall I be married then to-morrow morning?
No, no;-this shall forbid it:-lie thou there.
[Laying 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 man.
I will not entertain so bad a thought."-
How if, when I am laid into the tomb,
I wake before the time that Romeo
Come to redeem me? there's a fearful point!
Shall I not then be stifled in the vault,

To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in,
And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes?
Or, if I live, is it not very like,
The horrible conceit of death and night,
Together with the terror of the place,—
As in a vault, an ancient receptacle,
Where, for these many hundred years,
Of all my buried ancestors are pack'd;
Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth,
Lies fest'ring in his shroud; where, as they say,
At some hours in the night, spirits resort;-
Alack, alack! is it not like, that I,

the bones

So early waking,-what with loathsome smells, And shrieks like mandrakes' (5) torn out of the

a I will not entertain so bad a thought.-] This line is found only in the quarto, 1597.

b In the pastry.] "That is, in the room where paste was made. So laundry, spicery, &c." says Malone; but as he gives no example of this use of the word, we subjoin one :

"Now having seene all this, then shall you see, hard by,

The pastrie, mealehouse, and the roome wheras the coales doly." A Floorish upon Fancie, by N[ICHOLAS] B[RETON], Gent. 1582.

• You cot-quean,-] Cot-quean was nothing more than another name for what housewives now term a molly-coddle; a man who busies himself in affairs which properly belong to the softer sex. d A mouse-hunt-] The marten, an animal of the weazel tribe, is called mouse-hunt; and from Lady Capulet's use of it, the name appears to have been familiarly applied to any one of rakish propensities. Heywood has a proverb, "Cat after kinde, good mouse-hunt."-JOHN HEYWOOD's Workes, 4to. 1598.

Thou shalt be logger-head.-Good faith,* 'tis day: The county will be here with music straight,

[Music within. 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; and chat with Paris:-hie, make haste, I'll go Make haste! the bridegroom he is come already: Make haste, I say! * [Exeunt.

SCENE V. Juliet's Chamber; Juliet on the

Bed.

Enter Nurse.

NURSE. Mistress!-what, mistress !-Juliet! -fast, I warrant her, she—

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,b
That you shall rest but little.-God forgive me,
(Marry, and amen!) how sound is she asleep!
I needs must 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 clothes! 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, look! O heavy day!

(*) First folio, Father.

* Make haste, I say!] In the quarto, 1597, this speech consists only of four lines:

"Well goe thy way, thou shalt be logger head.
Come, come, make hast, call up your daughter,
The countie will be heere with musicke straight,
Gods me hees come, nurse call vp my daughter."

Hath set up his rest,-] A phrase borrowed from the gaming table. See note (4), p. 150 of the present Vol.

e Every edition, except the quarto, 1597, assigns this speech to the Friar; but at the present juncture he is too critically placed to be anxious to lead the conversation. Moreover, the answer of Capulet tends to show that Paris had asked the question.

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.

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

NURSE. She's dead, deceas'd, she's dead; alack the day!

LA. 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.
NURSE. O lamentable day!

LA. CAP.

O woful time! CAP. Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make

Enter Friar LAURENCE and PARIS, with Musicians.

PAR. 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, living, all is death's.
PAR. Have I thought long to see this morning's
face,

d

d Life, living, all is death's.] So the old copies. Most of the modern editors follow Capell, and read,

"life leaving, all is death's."

The change is uncalled for; "living" here implies possessions, fortunes, not existence. We meet with the same distinction between life and living in the "Merchant of Venice," Act V. Sc. 1, where Antonio, whose life had been saved by Portia, says,

"Sweet lady, you have given me life and living;
For here I read for certain, that my ships
Are safely come to road."

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: O woful day, O woful day!

PAR. Beguil'd, divorced, wronged, spited, slain! Most détestable death, by thee beguil'd By cruel, cruel thee, quite overthrown !— O love! O life!—not life, but love in death! CAP. Despis'd, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd!

child!

Uncomfortable time why! cam'st thou now
To murder, murder our solemnity?—
O child! O child!-my soul, and not my
Dead art thou!-alack! my child is dead;
And, with my child, my joys are buried!
FRI. Peace, ho, for shame! confusion's curea
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 advanc'd:
And weep ye now, seeing she is advanc'd,
Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself?
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 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,

(*) First folio, And in, &c.

Confusion's cure-] The old copies read care; corrected by Theobald.

b For though fond nature-] So the second folio; the previous editions read some nature.

e My heart is full of woe:] The words "of woe" are found only in the dateless quarto; all the other old editions reading, "My heart is full." "My heart is full of woe," and "Heart's ease," were popular tunes of the period. In the Pepys' collection is "A pleasant Ballad of two Lovers," beginning thus:

"Complaine, my lute, complaine on him,
That stayes so long away;

He promis'd to be here ere this,

But still unkind doth stay;

But now the proverbe true I finde,

Once out of sight, then out of mind.
Hey ho! my heart is full of woe."

d O, play me some merry dump, to comfort me.] This line is not found in the folio, 1623. In the "Two Gentlemen of Verona,"

And all things change them to the contrary.

FRI. 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. [Exeunt CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, PARIS, and Friar.

1 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.

[Exit Nurse. 1 Mus. Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended.

Enter PETER. (8)

PET. Musicians, O, musicians, Heart's ease, heart's ease; O, an you will have me live, playheart's ease.

1 Mus. Why heart's ease?

PET. O, musicians, because my heart itself plays-My heart is full of woe: O, play me some merry dump, to comfort me."

2 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.

1 Mus. What will you give us?

PET. No money, on my faith; but the gleek:* I will give you the minstrel.

1 Mus. Then will I give you the serving

creature.

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

1 Mus. An you re us, and fa us, you note us. 2 Mus. Pray you, put up your dagger, and put out your wit.

we hear of "a deploring dump;" and in "The Arraignment of Paris," 1584, when the shepherds have sung an elegiac hymn over the hearse of Colin, Venus says to Paris,

"How cheers my lovely boy after this dump of woe!" and Paris replies,—

"Such dumps, sweet lady, as bin these, are deadly dumps to prove." Dumps appear to have been heavy, mournful tunes, and Master Peter's "merry dump" was a purposed contradiction in terms.

• The gleek:] To give the gleek, a phrase borrowed from the old game of cards called gleek, signified to flout or scorn any one; and as a gleekman, or gligman, was a name for minstrel, we get a notion of the quibble meant. A similar equivoque is, no doubt, intended in "the serving-creature," but the allusion is yet to be discovered.

f I'll re you, I'll fa you; do you note me?] This is in the same strain as the rest of the dialogue. Re and Fa are the syllables used in sol-faing the notes D and F in the scale of music. The pun on note is self evident, and the word appears to have been a favourite one to play upon, for Shakespeare has used it with a double meaning at least a score of times.