Hold, friends! friends, part! and, fwifter than his tongue, His agile arm beats down their fatal points, La. Cap. He is a kinfman to the Montagues, 1 Prin. Romeo flew him, he flew Mercutio; His fault concludes but what the law should end, Prin. And for that offence, I have an intereft in your hearts' proceeding, My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a bleeding; But 6 I have an intereft in your hearts' proceeding,] Sir Th. Hanmer faw that this line gave, no fenfe, and therefore put, by a very easy change, I have an intereft in your beat's proceeding, Which is undoubtedly better than the old reading which Dr. Warburton has followed; but the fenfe But I'll amerce you with fo ftrong a fine, [Exeunt. SCENE IV. Changes to an Apartment in Capulet's House. Enter Juliet alone. Jul. GALLOP apace, you fiery-footed steeds, Tow'rds Phabus manfion; fuch a wag goner, As Phaeton, would whip you to the weft, 7 Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night, Leap Leap to these arms, untalkt of and unfeen. 9 unmann'd blood baiting in my cheeks, With thy black mantle; 'till ftrange love, grown bold, Thinks true love acted, fimple modefty." Come, night; come, Romeo! come, thou day in night, For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night, Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-brow'd night! Give me my Romeo, and, when he shall die, 1 As is the night before fome festival, To an impatient child that hath new robes, Enter Nurfe with cords. And the brings news; and every tongue, that fpeaks ful. Ah me, what news? Why dost thou wring thy hands? Nurfe. Ah welladay, he's dead, he's dead, he's dead! We are undone, lady, we are undone. Alack the day! he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead, Nurfe. Romeo can, Though heav'n cannot. O Romeo! Romeo! Jul. What devil art thou, that doft torment me thus? This torture fhould be roar'd in difmal hell. Narfe. I faw the wound, I faw it with mine eyes, (God fave the mark,) here on his manly breast. A piteous coarfe, a bloody piteous coarse; Pale, pale as afhes, all bedawb'd in blood, All in gore blood. I fwooned at the fight. Jul. O break, my heart!-poor bankrupt, break at once! To prifon, eyes! ne'er look on liberty; Jul. What ftorm is this, that blows fo contrary 1 Jul. O God! did Romeo's hand fhed Tybalt's blood? Nurfe. It did, it did. Alas, the day! it did. Jul. O ferpent heart, hid with a flow'ring face! Did ever dragon keep fó fair a cave? Beautiful tyrant, fiend angelical! |