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Hath Death lain with thy bride :-see, there she

lies, Flower as she was, deflowered by him. Death is my son-in-law; Death is my heir ; My daughter he hath wedded. I will die, And leave him all; life leaving, all is death’s. Pa. Have I thought long to see this morning's

face, And doth it give me such a sight as this ? L. Cap. Accursed, unhappy, wretched, hateful

Most miserable hour, that e'er time saw
In lasting labor of his pilgrimage !
But one, poor one, one poor and loving child,
But one thing to rejoice and solace in,
And cruel death hath catch'd it from my sight!

Nurse. O woe! O woful, woful, woful day!
Most lamentable day! most woful day,
That ever, ever, I did yet behold !
O day! O day! O day! O hateful day!
Never was seen so black a day as this.
0 woful day! 0 woful day!

Pa. Beguiled, divorced, wronged, spited, slain !
Most detestable death, by thee beguiled,
By cruel cruel thee quite overthrown ! -
O love! O life !-not life, but love in death!

Cap. Despised, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd!Uncomfortable time! why camest thou now To murder murder our solemnity ?O child! O child !—my soul, and not my child !Dead art thou ?-alack! my child is dead;

And, with my child, my joys are buried !
F. Lau. Peace, ho, for shame! confusion's cure

lives not
In these confusions. Heaven and yourself
Had part in this fair maid; now Heaven hath all,
And all the better is it for the maid.
Your part in her you could not keep from death;
But Heaven keeps his part in eternal life.
The most you sought was her promotion ;
For 'twas your heaven, she should be advanced :
And weep ye now, seeing she is advanced,
Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself ?
0, in this love, you love your child so ill,
That you run mad, seeing that she is well:
She's not well married, that lives married long;
But she's best married, that dies married young.
Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary
On this fair corse ; and, as the custom is,
In all her best array bear her to church :
For though fond Nature bids us all lament,
Yet Nature's tears are Reason's merriment.

Cap. All things, that we ordained festival,
Turn from their office to black funeral :
Our instruments to melancholy bells ;
Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast;
Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change;
Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse,
And all things change them to the contrary.

F. Lau. Sir, go you in; and, madam, go with


sir Paris :

: every one prepare

To follow this fair corse unto her grave.
The heavens do lower upon you for some ill;
Move them no more, by crossing their high will.

[Ereant Capulet, Lady Capulet, Paris, and Friar.

1 Mu. Faith, we may put up our pipes, and be gone.

Nurse. Honest, good fellows, ah, put up, put up ; For, well you know, this is a pitiful case.

[Exit Nurse. 1 Mu. Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended.

Enter PETER.


Peter. Musicians, O, musicians, heart's ease, heart's ease,' 0, an you will have me live, play • heart's ease.'

1 Mu. Why heart's ease?'

Peter. O musicians, because my heart itself plays, • My heart is full of woe.' O, play me some merry dump 1 to comfort me.

2 Mu. Not a dump we; 'tis no time to play now. Peter. You will not then? Mu. No. Peter. I will then give it you soundly. 1 Mu. What will you give us ?

Peter. No money, on my faith ; but the gleek : ? I will give you the minstrel.

· Dumps were heavy, mournful tunes, adapted for elegies.

? A pun is here intended between gleek,' scorn; and ‘gleekman,' which signified a minstrel.

1 Mu. Then will I give you the serving-creature.

Peter. Then will I lay the serving-creature's dagger on your pate. I will carry no crotchets : I'll re you; I 'll fa you. Do you note me?

1 Mu. An you re us, and fa us, you note us.

2 Mu. Pray you, put up your dagger, and put out your wit.

Peter. Then have at you with my wit : I will dry-beat you with an iron wit, and put up my iron dagger.—Answer me like men.

When griping grief the heart doth wound,

And doleful dumps the mind oppress ; Then Music, with her silver sound,'. Why, 'silver sound ?' why, `Music, with her silver sound ?'—What say you, Simon Catling?

1 Mu. Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound.

Peter. Pretty!—What say you, Hugh Rebeck ?

2 Mu. I say "silver sound, because musicians sound for silver.

Peter. Pretty too !—What say you, James Sound.


3 Mu. Faith, I know not what to say.

Peter. O, I cry you mercy! you are the singer : I will say for you.

It is— Music, with her silver sound,' because such fellows as you have seldom gold for sounding :• Then Music, with her silver sound, With speedy help doth lend redress.'

[Exit, singing. 1 Mu. What a pestilent knave is this same !

2 Mu. Hang him, Jack! Come, we 'll in here; tarry for the mourners, and stay dinner. [Exeunt.



Mantua. A street.

Enter ROMEO.

Ro. If I may trust the flattering eye of sleep,
My dreams presage some joyful news at hand:
My bosom's lord 1 sits lightly in his throne;
And, all this day, an unaccustom'd spirit
Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.
I dreamt, my lady came and found me dead;
(Strange dream, that gives a dead man leave to

And breathed such life with kisses in my lips,
That I revived, and was an emperor.
Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess’d,
When but love's shadows are so rich in joy!


News from Verona !-How now, Balthasar ?
Dost thou not bring me letters from the friar?
How doth my lady? Is my father well ?

Ti. e. the god of love.

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