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For whofe dear fake thou waft but lately dead:
There art thou happy. Tybalt would kill thee,
But thou flew'ft Tybalt; there thou'rt happy too.
The law, that threatned death, became thy friend,
And turn'd it to exile; there art thou happy;
A pack of bleffings light upon thy back,
Happiness courts thee in her beft array,
But, like a mifbehav'd and fullen wench,
Thou pout'ft upon thy fortune and thy love.
Take heed, take heed, for fuch die miferable.
Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed,
Afcend her chamber, hence and comfort her:
But, look, thou ftay not 'till the watch be fet;
For then thou canst not pafs to Mantua,
Where thou shalt live, 'till we can find a time
To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends,
Beg pardon of thy Prince, and call thee back
With twenty hundred thousand times more joy,
Than thou went'it forth in lamentation.
Go before, nurfe. Commend me to 'thy lady,-
And bid her haften all the house to bed,
Which heavy forrow makes them apt unto.
Romeo is coming..

Nurfe. O Lord, I could have ftaid here all night


To hear good counfel. Oh, what Learning is!
My Lord, I'll tell my Lady you will come.

Rom. Do fo, and bid my Sweet prepare to chide.
Nurse. Here, Sir, a ring the bid me give you, Sir:
Hie you, make hafte, for it grows very late.
Rom. How well my comfort is reviv'd by this!
Fri. 3 Go hence. Good night. And here ftands
all your ftate;

Either begone before the watch be fet,

Or by the break of day, difguis'd from hence.

3 Go hence. Good night, &c.] These three lines are omitted in all the modern ed tions.

4-bere fands all your fate;] The whole of your fortune depends on this.


Sojourn in Mantua; I'll find out your man,
And he fhall fignify from time to time
Every good hap to you, that chances here.

Give me thy hand, Tis late. Farewell. Good night.
Rom. But that a joy, paft joy, calls out on me,
It were a grief, so brief to part with thee. [Exeunt.


Changes to Capulet's House.

Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, and Paris.

HINGS have fallen out, Sir, fo unlucki


That we have had no time to move our daughter.
Look you, fhe lov'd her kinfman Tybalt dearly,
And fo did I.-Well, we were born to die.-
'Tis very late, fhe'll not come down to-night.
I promise you, but for your Company,

I would have been a-bed an hour ago.

Par. Thefe times of woe afford no time to wooe. Madam, good night. Commend me to your daughter. La. Cap. I will, and know her Mind early to


To-night she's mew'd up to her heaviness.


Cap. Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender Of my child's love. child's love. I think, fhe will be rul'd

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In all refpects by me; nay more, I doubt it not.
Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed;
Acquaint her here with my fon Paris' love,
And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next,-
But, foft; what day is this?

Par. Monday, my Lord.

Cap. Monday? Ha! ha! well, Wednesday is too foon,

On Thursday let it be. O' Thursday, tell her,
She fhall be married to this noble Earl.

-Will you be ready? Do you like this Hafte?
We'll keep no great a do-a friend or two-
For, hark you, Tybalt being flain so late,
It may be thought we held him carelefly,
Being our kinfman, if we revel much;

Therefore we'll have fome half a dozen friends,
And there's an end. But what fay you to Thurfday?
Par. My Lord, I would that Thursday were to-


Cap. Well, get you gone on Thursday be it


Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed. [To Lady Cap.
Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day.
Farewel, my Lord- -Light to my chamber, hoa!
'Fore me.It is fo late, that we may call
It early by and by. Good night.

daughter will be ruled in all refpects by him. We fhould read, Sir Paris, I will make a SEPA

RATE tender.

i. e. I will venture Separately on my own head, to make you a tender of my daughter's love without confulting her. For Sir Paris was impatient, and the mother had faid,


Things have fall'n out, Sir, fø unluckily,

That we have had no time to move our daughter.


Defperate means only bold, advent'rous, as if he had faid in the vulgar phrafe, I will speak a bold word, and venture to premife you my daughter.



Juliet's Chamber looking to the Garden.

Enter Romeo and Juliet, above at a window; a ladder

of ropes fet.

ILT thou be gone? it is not yet near day;

Jul. WIL

It was the Nightingale, and not the Lark,
That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear;
Nightly the fings on yon pomgranate tree:
'Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.

Rom. It was the Lark, the herald of the morn,
No Nightingale. Look, love, what envious ftreaks
Do lace the fevering clouds in yonder eaft;
Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountains' tops.
I must be gone and live, or ftay and die.
Jul. Yon light is not day-light, I know it,
It is fome meteor that the Sun exhales,
To be to thee this night a torch-bearer,
And light thee on thy way to Mantua ;
Then stay a while, thou shalt not go fo foon.
Rom. Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death,
I am content, if thou wilt have it fo.
I'll fay, yon grey is not the morning's eye,
"Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow;
Nor that is not the lark, whofe notes do beat
The vaulty heav'ns fo high above our heads.

I have more care to ftay, than will to go. Come death, and welcome; Juliet wills it fo.

7- the pale reflex-] The appearance of a cloud oppofed to the moon,

• I have more care to stay, than

better thus,

G 2

will to go.] Would it be I have more will to ftay, than care to go?


How is't, my Soul? let's talk, it is not day.
Jul. It is, it is; hie hence, be gone, away.
It is the lark that fings fo out of tune,
Straining harsh difcords, and unpleafing fharps..
Some fay, the lark makes fweet divifion;
This doth not fo: for fhe divideth us.

Some fay, the lark and loathed toad chang❜d eyes;
9 O, now I would they had chang'd voices too!
'Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray,
Hunting thee up with huntfup to the day.
O now be gone, more light and light it grows.
Rom. More light and light?--More dark and
dark our Woes.

9 O, now I WOULD they had chang'd voices too!] The tond having very fine eyes, and the lark very ugly ones, was the occafion of a common faying amongst the people, that the toad and lark had chang'd eyes. To this the fpeaker alludes. But fure the need not have wifhed that they had changed voices too. The lark appear'd to her untunable enough in all confcience: As appears by what she said juft before,

It is the lark that fings fe out
of tune,
Straining harth difcords and

unpleafing tharps.
This directs us to the right read-
ing. For how natural was it for
her after this to add,

Some fay the lark and loathed toad change eyes.

now I wor they have chang'd voices too.

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