When, presently, through all thy veins shall run
A cold and drowsy humour, which shall seize
Each vital spirit; for no pulse shall keep
His natural progress, but surcease to beat:
No warmth, no breath, shall testify thou liv'st;
The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade
To paly ashes; thy eyes' windows fall,
Like death, when he shuts up the day of life;
Each part, depriv'd of supple government,
Shall stiff, and stark, and cold, appear like death:
And in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk death
Thou shalt remain full two and forty hours,
And then awake as from a pleasant sleep.
Now when the bridegroom in the morning comes
To rouse 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,

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 unconstant toy," nor womanish fear,
Abate thy valour in the acting it.

Jul. Give me, O give me! 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.

Farewell, dear father!

[Exeunt.

7 If no unconstant toy, &c.] If no fickle freak, no light caprice, no change of fancy, hinder the performance.

SCENE II.

A Room in Capulet's House.

Enter CAPULET, Lady CAPULET, Nurse, and Servant.

Cap. So many guests invite as here are writ.[Exit Servant.

Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks.

8

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.

We shall be much unfurnish'd for this time.

What, is my daughter gone to friar Laurence?

Nurse. Ay, forsooth.

Cap. Well, he may chance to do some good on

her:

A peevish self-will'd harlotry it is.

8

Enter JULIET.

Nurse. See, where she comes from shrift with merry look.

Cap. How now, my headstrong? where have you

go

been gadding?1

hire me twenty cunning cooks.] Twenty cooks for half a dozen guests! Either Capulet has altered his mind strangely, or our author forgot what he had just made him tell us. See p. 79. - from shrift—] i. e. from confession.

1

-gadding?] The primitive sense of this word was to straggle from house to house, and collect money, under pretence of singing carols to the Blessed Virgin.

Jul. Where I have learn'd me to repent the sin Of disobedient opposition

To you, and your behests; and am enjoin'd
By holy Laurence to fall prostrate here,

And 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.

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 housewife for this once.-What, ho!They are all forth: Well, I will walk myself

To county Paris, to prepare him up

2

becomed love-] Becomed for becoming: one participle

for the other; a frequent practice with our author.

Against to-morrow: my heart is wond'rous light,
Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim'd.

[Exeunt.

I

SCENE III.

Juliet's Chamber.

Enter JULIET and NURSE.

Jul. Ay, those attires are best:-But, gentle

nurse,

pray thee, leave me to myself to-night;

For I have need of many orisons 3

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? do

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 Lady CAPULET and Nurse. Jul. Farewell!-God knows, when we shall meet

again.

I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins,
That almost freezes up the heat of life:

I'll call them back again to comfort me;—

3 For I have need, &c.] Juliet plays most of her pranks under the appearance of religion: perhaps Shakspeare meant to punish her hypocrisy. JOHNSON.

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?
Must I of force be married to the county?-
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, the bones
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,"

So early waking,-what with loathsome smells;
And shrieks like mandrakes' torn out of the earth,
That living mortals, hearing them, run mad;—

green in earth,] i. e. fresh in earth, newly buried.

5 Lies fest'ring-] To fester is to corrupt.

6

is it not like, that I,] This speech is confused, and inconsequential, according to the disorder of Juliet's mind.