And then down falls again. Rom. As if that name, Shot from the deadly level of a gun, Did murder her; as that name's cursed hand Murder'd her kinsman.-O tell me, friar, tell me, In what vile part of this anatomy Fri. Doth my name lodge? tell me, that I may sack Why rail'st thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth? And usest none in that true use indeed (1) Torn to pieces with thine own weapons. But thou slew'st Tybalt; there art thou happy too. Nurse. O Lord, I could have staid here all the night, To hear good counsel: O, what learning is!— Rom. Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide. Nurse. Here, sir, a ring she bid me give you, sir: Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late. [Exit Nurse. Rom. How well my comfort is reviv'd by this! Fri. Go hence: Good night; and here stands all your state ;1 Either be gone before the watch be set, (1) The whole of your fortune depends on this. Rom. But that a joy past joy calls out on me, It were a grief, so brief to part with thee: Farewell. [Exeunt. SCENE IV-A room in Capulet's house. Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, and Paris. Cap. Things have fallen out, sir, so unluckily, That we have had no time to move our daughter: Look you, she lov'd her kinsman Tybalt dearly, And so did I;-Well, we were born to die.— 'Tis very late, she'll not come down to-night: I promise you, but for your company, I would have been a-bed an hour ago. Par. These times of wo afford no time to woo. Madam, good night: commend me to your daugh ter. La. Cap. I will, and know her mind early to morrow; To-night she's mew'd up to her heaviness. Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love; And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday nextBut, soft; What day is this? Par. Monday, my lord. Cap. Monday? ha! ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon, O' Thursday let it be ;-O' Thursday, tell her, Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends, Par. My lord, I would that Thursday were to. morrow. Cap. Well, get you gone:-O' Thursday be it then : Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed, Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day.- Good night. [Exe. SCENE V-Juliet's chamber. Enter Romeo and Juliet. Jul. Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day: It was the nightingale, and not the lark, That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear; Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree: Believe me, love, it was the nightingale. Rom. It was the lark, the herald of the morn, No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east: Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain-tops; I must be gone and live, or stay and die. Jul. Yon light is not day-light, I know it, I : It is some meteor that the sun exhales, To be to thee this night a torch-bearer, And light thee on thy way to Mantua : Therefore stay yet, thou need'st not to be gone. Rom. Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death I am content, so thou wilt have it so." I'll say, yon grey is not the morning's eye, 'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow; Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat The vaulty heaven so high above our heads: I have more care2 to stay, than will to go;Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so.-How is't, my soul? let's talk, it is not day. Jul. It is, it is, hie hence, be gone, away; (1) Reflection of the moon. (2) Inclination. It is the lark that sings so out of tune, Straining harsh discords, and unpleasing sharps. Some say, the lark makes sweet division; This doth not so, for she divideth us: Some say, the lark and loathed toad change eyes; Enter Nurse. Nurse. Madam! Jul. Nurse? Nurse. Your lady mother's coming to your chamber: The day is broke; be wary, look about. [Exit Nurse. Jul. Then, window, let day in, and let life out. Rom. Farewell, farewell! one kiss, and I'll de[Romeo descends. scend. Jul. Art thou gone so? my love! my lord! my friend! I must hear from thee every day i'the hour, Rom. Farewell! I will omit no opportunity Jul. O God! I have an ill-divining soul: Methinks, I see thee now thou art below, (1) Division was the technical phrase for musical composition. (2) A tune played to wake hunters, also a morning song to a woman the day after marriage. |