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Alas, alas!

is it not like, that I

So early waking, what with loathfom fmells,
And fhrieks, like mandrake's torn out of the earth,
That living mortals, hearing them, run mad.
Or, if I wake, fhall I not be diftraught,
Invironed with all these hideous fears,
And madly play with my fore fathers' joints.
And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud?
And in this rage, with fome great kinsman's bone,
As with a club, dafh out my defp'rate brains?
O look! methinks, I fee my cousin's ghoft
Seeking out Romeo, that did fpit his Body
Upon a Rapier's Point. Stay, Tybalt, stay!
Romeo, here's drink! Romeo, I drink to thee.
[She throws herself on the bed.

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SCENE

IV.

Changes to Capulet's Hall.

Enter Lady Capulet and Nurfe.

La. Cap. H
HOL

OLD, take these keys and fetch more
fpices, nurfe.

Nurse. They call for dates and quinces in the pastry.

Enter Capulet.

Cap. Come, ftir, ftir, ftir, the fecond cock hatlı
crow'd,

The curfeu bell hath rung, 'tis three o'clock:
Look to the bak'd Meats, good Angelica.
Spare not for Coft.

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Nurfe. Go, go, you cot-quean, go.
Get you to bed; 'faith, you'll be fick to morrow,
For this night's watching.

Cap. No, not a whit: what, I have watch'd ere

now

All night for a lefs caufe, and ne'er been fick.
La. Cap. Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt in your
time,

But I will watch you, from fuch watching, now.
[Exeunt Lady Capulet and Nurse.
Cap. A jealous-hood, a jealous-hood.
Now fellow, what's there?

Enter three or four with fpits, and logs, and baskets.

Serv. Things for the cook, Sir, but I know not what.

Cap. Make hafte, make hafte. Sirrah, fetch drier logs,

Call Peter, he will fhew thee where they are.

Serv. I have a head, Sir, that will find out logs, And never trouble Peter for the matter.

Cap. 'Mafs, and well faid, a merry whorefon, ha! Thou shalt be logger-head. Good faith, 'tis day. The County will be here with mufick ftraight,.

[Play mufick.

For fo, he said, he would. I hear him near.
Nurfe,-wife,-what, ho! what nurse, I say?

Enter Nurfe.

Go, waken Juliet, go and trim her up,
I'll go
and chat with Paris. Hie, make hafte,
Make hafte, the Bride-groom he is come already.
Make hafte, I fay,

[Exeunt Capulet and Nurfe, feverally.

H 3

SCENE

v.

SCENE V.

Changes to Juliet's Chamber, Juliet on a bed.

Re-enter Nurfe.

Nurse. M Istress, what, mistress? Juliet-Fast, I

warrant her.

Why, lamb-why, Lady-Fy, you slug-a-bed-
Why, love, I fay-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 fet up his Reft,
That you fhall reft but little-God forgive me-
Marry, and amen!How found is the asleep?
I must needs 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 dreft, and in your cloaths-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-vite. Ho! my Lord, my lady!

Enter Lady Capulet.

La. Cap. What noife is here?
Nurfe. O lamentable day!
La. Cap. What's the matter?
Nurfe. Look,oh heavy day!

La. Cap. Oh me, oh me, my child, my only life!
Revive, look up, or L will die with thee;
Help, help! call help.

Enter

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Enter Capulet.

Cap. For fhame, bring Juliet forth. Her Lord is

come.

Nurfe. She's dead, deceas'd, the's dead. Alack the day!

Cap. Ha! let me fee her. Out, alas! fhe's cold; Her blood is fettled, and her joints are stiff; Life and thefe lips have long been separated; Death lies on her, like an untimely froft Upon the sweetest flow'r of all the field. Accurfed time! unfortunate old man!

Nurfe. O lamentable day!

La. Cap. O woeful Time!

Cap. Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail,

Ties up my Tongue, and will not let me speak.

Enter Friar Lawrence, and Paris with Muficians.

Fri. Come, is the bride ready to go to church? Cap. Ready to go, but never to return. O fon, the night before thy wedding-day Hath Death lain with thy wife. See, there the lies, Flow'r as fhe was, deflowered now by him, Death is my fon-in-law.

Par. Have I thought long to fee this morning's face, And doth it give me fuch a fight as this!

La. Cap. Accurs'd, unhappy, wretched, hateful day! Moft miferable hour, that Time e'er faw

In lafting labour of his pilgrimage!

But one, poor one, one poor and loving child,
But one thing to rejoice and folace in,
And cruel death hath catch'd it from my fight.
H 4

Nurfe.

Nurfe. O woe! oh woful, woful, woful, day!
Moft lamentable day! moft woful day!
That ever, ever, I did yet behold.
Oh day! oh day! oh day! oh hateful day!
Never was feen fo black a day as this.
Oh woful day, oh woful day!

Par. Beguil'd, divorced, wronged, fpighted, flain,
Most deteftable Death, by thee beguil'd,
By cruel, cruel thee quite overthrown:-
O Love, O Life,-not Life, but Love in Death!-
Cap. Defpis'd, diftreffed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd,
Uncomfortable Time! why cam'ft thou now
To murder, murder our Solemnity?

O Child! O Child! My Soul, and not my Child!
Dead art thou! dead; alack! my Child is dead;
And, with my Child, my Joys are buried.

2

Fri. Peace, ho, for Shame! Confufion's Cure lives not

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In these Confufions: Heaven and yourself

Had part in this fair Maid; now Heav'n hath all;
And all the better is it for the Maid.

Your part in her
in her you could not keep from Death;
But Heav'n keeps his
part
in eternal Life.

• Oroe! ob woful, &c.] This Speech of exclamations is not in the edition above cited. Several other parts, unneceffary or tauto logy, are not to be found in the faid edition; which occafions the variation in this from the common books. POPE.

2 In former editions,
Peace, ho, for fhame, confufi-
ons Care lives not

In thefe confufious:] This fpeech, though it contains good Chriftian doctrine, though it is perfectly in character for the Friar,

Mr. Pope has curtail'd to little or nothing, because it has not the fanction of the first old copy. But there was another reafon : Certain corruptions started, which fhould have required the indulging his private fenfe to make them in telligible, and this was an unreafonable labour. As I have reformed the paffage above quoted, I dare warrant, I have restored our poet's text; and a fine fenfible reproof it contains against immoderate grief. THEOE.

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