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Where bloody Tibalt, yet but green in earth,
[Drinks, and throws herself on the Bed.
Enter LADY CAPULET and NURSE.
Lady C. Hold, take these keys, and fetch more
spices, Nurse. Nurse. They call for dates and quinces in the pastry.
Nurse. Go, go, you cot-quean, go :
you to bed; faith you'll be sick to-morrow, For this night's watching.
[Exit. Cap. No, not a whit? what, I have watch'd ere
All night for a less cause, and ne'er been sick.
[Music plays. For so he said he would.
I hear him near, Nurse, wife, what ho? what, Nurse, I say?
I warrant her:
Enter LADY CAPULET.
Lady C. Oh me, my child, my only life!
Cap. For shame, bring Juliet forth, her lord is
Nurse. She's dead: she's dead! alack the day!
Cap. Ha ! let me see her-Out, alas ! she's cold, Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff ; Life and these lips have long been separated : Death lies on her, like an untimely frost Upon the sweetest flower of all the field. Accursed time! unfortunate old man !
Enter FRIAR LAWRENCE and Paris.
Cap. Ready to go, but never to return.
Cap. Most miserable hour, that time ere saw
Fri. Your daughter lives in peace and happiness ;
Cap. All things, that we ordain'd to festival,
Our wedding cheer, to a sad burial feast:
Fri. The Heav'ns do low'r upon you, for some ill; Move them no more, by crossing their high will.
ACT THE FIFTH.
The Inside of a Church.
Enter the Funeral Procession of Juliet, in which the
following Dirge is sung.
For sighs alone,
And dismal moan,
She's gone—the sweetest flow'r of May,
That blooming bless'd our sight;
Rise, rise! &c.
gone, nor leaves behind,
Rom. If I may trust the flattery of sleep, My dreams presage some joyful news at hand: My bosom's lord sits lightly on his throne, And, all this day, an unaccustom'd spirit