Imagens das páginas
PDF
ePub

Fa. Tufh, I will stirre about,

And all things fhall be well, I warrant thee wife :
Go thou to Juliet, helpe to decke vp her,

Ile not to bed to night, let me alone :

Ile play the hufwife for this once, what ho?
They are all forth, well I will walke my felfe
To countie Paris, to prepare vp him

Against to morrow, my heart is wondrous light,
Since this fame wayward gyrle is fo reclaimed.

Enter Iuliet and Nurse.

lu. I thofe attires are beft, but gentle nurse
I pray thee leaue me to my felfe to night:
For I haue need of many oryfons,

To moue the heauens to fmile vpon my ftate,
Which wel thou knowest, is croffe and ful of fin.

Enter mother.

Mo. What are you bufie ho? need you my help?
Iu. No madam, we haue culd fuch neceffaries

As are behoofefull for our state to morrow :
So please you, let me now be left alone,
And let the nurse this night fit vp with you,

For I am fure, you haue your hands full all,
In this fo fudden bufineffe.

Mo. Good night.

Get thee to bed and reft, for thou haft need..

Exit.

Exeunt.

Iu. Farewell, God knowes when we fhall meete againe.

I haue a faint cold feare thrills through my veines,

That almost freezes vp the heate of life:
Ile call them backe againe to comfort me.
Nurse, what should she do here?
My difmall fceane I needs must act alone.

Come

Come viall, what if this mixture do not worke at all?
Shall I be married then to morrow morning?
No, no, this fhall forbid it, lie thou there,
What if it be a poyfon which the frier
Subtilly hath miniftred, to haue me dead,
Least in this marriage he should be difhonourd,
Because he married me before to Romeo?

I feare it is, and yet me thinks it fhould not,
For he hath still beene tried a holy man.
How if when I am laid into the tombe,

I wake before the time that Romeo

Come to redeeme me, theres a fearefull point:
Shall I not then be stiffled in the vault?

To whose foule mouth no healthfome ayre breaths in,

And there die ftrangled ere my Romeo comes.

Or if I liue, is it not very like,

The horrible conceit of death and night,
Together with the terror of the place,
As in a vaulte, an ancient receptacle,
Where for thefe many hundred yeeres the bones
Of all my buried auncestors are packt,
Where bloody Tybalt yet but greene in earth,
Lies feftring in his fhrowd, where as they fay,
At fome houres in the night, fpirits refort:
Alacke, alacke, is it not like that I
So early waking, what with loathsome smels,
And fhrikes like mandrakes torne out of the earth,
That liuing mortalls hearing them run mad,
Or if I walke, fhall I not be diftraught,
Inuironed with all these hidious feares,
And madly play with my forefathers ioynts?
And plucke the mangled Tybalt from his fhrowde,
And in this rage, with fome great kinfmans bone,
As with a club dash out my desperate braines.

O looke,

O looke, me thinks I fee my cozins ghost,
Seeking out Romeo that did fpit his body.
Vpon a rapiers point: stay Tybalt, stay;
Romeo, Romeo, Romeo, heres drinke, I drinke to thee.

Enter lady of the house and Nurse.

La. Hold, take these keies, and fetch more fpices nurse.
Nur. They call for dates and quinces in the pastrie.

Enter old Capulet.

Ca. Come ftir, ftir, ftir, the second cocke hath crowed,
The curphew bell hath roung, tis three a clocke:
Looke to the bakte meates, good Angelica,
Spare not for cost.

Nur. Go you cot-queane, go,

Get you to bed, faith youle be ficke to morrow
For this nights watching.

Ca. No not a whit, what? I haue watcht ere now

All night for leffe caufe, and nere beene ficke.

La. I you haue bin a mouse-hunt in your time, But I will watch you from fuch watching now.

Exit lady and Nurse. Ca. A iealous hood, a iealous hood, now fellow, what is there?

Enter three or foure with fpits and logs and baskets.

Fel. Things for the cooke fir, but I know not what. Ca. Make hafte, make hafte firra, fetch drier logs. Call Peter, he will fhew thee where they are.

Fel. I haue a head fir, that will find out logs, And neuer trouble Peter for the matter.

Ca. Maffe and well faid, a merrie horfon, ha, Thou shalt be loggerhead; good father tis day.

VOL. IV.

L

Play

Play muficke.

The countie will be here with muficke straight,
For fo he faid he would, I heare him neere.
Nurse, wife, what ho, what nurse I say?

Enter Nurse.

Go waken Juliet, go and trim her vp,

Ile go and chat with Paris, hie, make haste,

Make hafte, the bridegroome, he is come already, make haste

I fay.

Nur. Miftris, what miftris, Iuliet, faft I warrant her fhe,
Why lambe, why lady, fie you fluggabed,

Why loue I fay, madam, fweet heart, why bride :
What not a word, you take your peniworths * now,
Sleepe for a weeke, for the next night I warrant
The countie Paris hath fet vp his reft,
That you shall reft but little, God forgive me.
Marrie and amen: how found is fhe a sleepe :
I must needs wake her: madam, madam, madam,
I, let the countie take you in your bed,
Heele fright you vp yfaith, will it not be?

What dreft, and in your clothes, and downe againe ?
I must needs wake you, lady, lady, lady.
Alas, alas, helpe, helpe, my ladyes dead.
Oh weleaday, that euer I was borne,
Some aqua-vitæ ho, my lord, my lady.
Mo. What noise is heere ?

Nur. O lamentable day.

Mo. What is the matter?

Nur. Looke, looke, oh heauie day.

Mo. O me, O me, my child, my onely life:

penniworth.

Reuine,

Reuiue, looke vp, or I will die with thee :

Helpe, helpe, call helpe.

Enter Father.

Fa. For fhame bring Iuliet forth, her lord is come:
Nur. Shees dead: deceaft, fhees dead, alacke the day.
M. Alack the day, fhees dead, fhees dead, fhees dead.
Fa. Hah let me fee her, out alas fhees cold,

Her blood is fetled and her ioynts are stiffe:
Life and thefe lips haue long bene feperated,
Death lies on her like an vntimely frost
Vpon the sweetest flower of all the field.
Nur. O lamentable day.

Mo. O wofull time.

Fa. Death that hath tane her hence to make me waile, Ties vp my tongue and will not let me fpeake.

[ocr errors]

Enter Frier and the Countie

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

Fa. Ready to go, but neuer to returne.

O fonne, the night before thy wedding day,
Hath death laine with thy wife, there she lies
Flower as she was, deflowred by him,
Death is my fonne in law, death is my heire,
My daughter he hath wedded. I will die,
And leaue him all life liuing, all is deaths.

Paris. Haue I thought long to fee this mornings face,
And doth it giue me fuch a fight as this?

Mo. Accurft, vnhappie, wretched hatefull day, Most miserable houre that ere time saw

In lasting labour of his pilgrimage,

But one poore one, one poore and louing child,

• Countie with musicians.

L 2

But

« AnteriorContinuar »