Shakespeare's First Folio Part 511

Enter old Capulet.

Cap. Come, stir, stir, stir, The second c.o.c.ke hath Crow'd, The Curphew Bell hath rung, '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 sicke to morrow For this nights watching

Cap. No not a whit: what? I haue watcht ere now All night for lesse cause, and nere beene sicke

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

Exit Lady and Nurse.

Cap. A iealous hood, a iealous hood, Now fellow, what there?

Enter three or foure with spits, and logs, and baskets.

Fel. Things for the Cooke sir, but I know not what

Cap. Make hast, make hast, sirrah, fetch drier Logs.

Call Peter, he will shew thee where they are

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

Cap. Ma.s.se and well said, a merrie horson, ha, Thou shalt be loggerhead; good Father, 'tis day.

Play Musicke

The Countie will be here with Musicke straight, For so he said he would, I heare him neere, Nurse, wife, what ho? what Nurse I say?

Enter Nurse.

Go waken Iuliet, go and trim her vp, Ile go and chat with Paris: hie, make hast, Make hast, the Bridegroome, he is come already: Make hast I say

Nur. Mistris, what Mistris? Iuliet? Fast I warrant her she.

Why Lambe, why Lady? fie you sluggabed, Why Loue I say? Madam, sweet 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 set vp his rest, That you shall rest but little, G.o.d forgiue me: Marrie and Amen: how sound is she 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 drest, and in your clothes, and downe againe?

I must needs wake you: Lady, Lady, Lady?

Alas, alas, helpe, helpe, my Ladyes dead, Oh weladay, that euer I was borne, Some Aqua-vitae ho, my Lord, my Lady?

Mo. What noise is heere?

Enter Mother.

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: Reuiue, looke vp, or I will die with thee: Helpe, helpe, call helpe.

Enter Father.

Fa. For shame bring Iuliet forth, her Lord is come

Nur. Shee's dead: deceast, shee's dead: alacke the day

M. Alacke the day, shee's dead, shee's dead, shee's dead

Fa. Ha? Let me see her: out alas shee's cold, Her blood is setled and her ioynts are stiffe: Life and these lips haue long bene seperated: Death lies on her like an vntimely frost Vpon the swetest 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 speake.

Enter Frier and the Countie.

Fri. Come, is the Bride ready to go to Church?

Fa. Ready to go, but neuer to returne.

O Sonne, 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 Sonne in law, death is my Heire, My Daughter he hath wedded. I will die, And leaue him all life liuing, all is deaths

Pa. Haue I thought long to see this mornings face, And doth it giue me such a sight as this?

Mo. Accur'st, 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, But one thing to reioyce and solace in, And cruell death hath catcht it from my sight

Nur. O wo, O wofull, wofull, wofull day, Most lamentable day, most wofull day, That euer, euer, I did yet behold.

O day, O day, O day, O hatefull day, Neuer was seene so blacke a day as this: O wofull day, O wofull day

Pa. Beguild, diuorced, wronged, spighted, slaine, Most detestable death, by thee beguil'd, By cruell, cruell thee, quite ouerthrowne: O loue, O life; not life, but loue in death

Fat. Despis'd, distressed, hated, martir'd, kil'd, Vncomfortable time, why cam'st thou now To murther, murther our solemnitie?

O Child, O Child; my soule, and not my Child, Dead art thou, alacke my Child is dead, And with my Child, my ioyes are buried

Fri. Peace ho for shame, confusions: Care liues not In these confusions, heauen and your selfe Had part in this faire Maid, now heauen hath all, And all the better is it for the Maid: Your part in her, you could not keepe from death, But heauen keepes his part in eternall life: The most you sought was her promotion, For 'twas your heauen, she shouldst be aduan'st, And weepe ye now, seeing she is aduan'st Aboue the Cloudes, as high as Heauen it selfe?

O in this loue, you loue your Child so ill, That you run mad, seeing that she is well: Shee's not well married, that liues married long, But shee's best married, that dies married yong.

Drie vp your teares, and sticke your Rosemarie On this faire Coa.r.s.e, and as the custome is, And in her best array beare her to Church: For though some Nature bids all vs lament, Yet Natures teares are Reasons merriment

Fa. All things that we ordained Festiuall, Turne from their office to blacke Funerall: Our instruments to melancholy Bells, Our wedding cheare, to a sad buriall Feast: Our solemne Hymnes, to sullen Dyrges change: Our Bridall flowers serue for a buried Coa.r.s.e: And all things change them to the contrarie

Fri. Sir go you in; and Madam, go with him, And go sir Paris, euery one prepare To follow this faire Coa.r.s.e vnto her graue: The heauens do lowre vpon you, for some ill: Moue them no more, by crossing their high will.

Exeunt.

Mu. Faith we may put vp our Pipes and be gone

Nur. Honest goodfellowes: Ah put vp, put vp, For well you know, this is a pitifull case

Mu. I by my troth, the case may be amended.

Enter Peter.

Pet. Musitions, oh Musitions, Hearts ease, hearts ease, O, and you will haue me liue, play hearts ease