Chapter: Scene III.
Juliet's chamber.

Enter Juliet and Nurse.


  Jul. Ay, those attires are best; but, gentle nurse,
    I pray thee leave me to myself to-night;
    For I have need of many orisons
    To move the heavens to smile upon my state,
    Which, well thou knowest, is cross and full of sin.

                          Enter Mother.


  Mother. What, are you busy, ho? Need you my help?

  Jul. No, madam; we have cull'd such necessaries
    As are behooffull for our state to-morrow.
    So please you, let me now be left alone,
    And let the nurse this night sit up with you;
    For I am sure you have your hands full all
    In this so sudden business.

  Mother. Good night.
    Get thee to bed, and rest; for thou hast need.
                                      Exeunt [Mother and Nurse.]

  Jul. Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again.
    I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins
    That almost freezes up the heat of life.
    I'll call them back again to comfort me.
    Nurse!- What should she do here?
    My dismal scene I needs must act alone.
    Come, vial.
    What if this mixture do not work at all?
    Shall I be married then to-morrow morning?
    No, No! This shall forbid it. Lie thou there.
                                             Lays down a dagger.
    What if it be a poison which the friar
    Subtilly hath minist'red to have me dead,
    Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd
    Because he married me before to Romeo?
    I fear it is; and yet methinks it should not,
    For he hath still been tried a holy man.
    I will not entertain so bad a thought.
    How if, when I am laid into the tomb,
    I wake before the time that Romeo
    Come to redeem me? There's a fearful point!
    Shall I not then be stifled in the vault,
    To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in,
    And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes?
    Or, if I live, is it not very like
    The horrible conceit of death and night,
    Together with the terror of the place-
    As in a vault, an ancient receptacle
    Where for this many hundred years the bones
    Of all my buried ancestors are pack'd;
    Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth,
    Lies fest'ring in his shroud; where, as they say,
    At some hours in the night spirits resort-
    Alack, alack, is it not like that I,
    So early waking- what with loathsome smells,
    And shrieks like mandrakes torn out of the earth,
    That living mortals, hearing them, run mad-
    O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught,
    Environed with all these hideous fears,
    And madly play with my forefathers' joints,
    And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud.,
    And, in this rage, with some great kinsman's bone
    As with a club dash out my desp'rate brains?
    O, look! methinks I see my cousin's ghost
    Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body
    Upon a rapier's point. Stay, Tybalt, stay!
    Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee.

        She [drinks and] falls upon her bed within the curtains.





Scene IV.
Capulet's house.

Enter Lady of the House and Nurse.


  Lady. Hold, take these keys and fetch more spices, nurse.

  Nurse. They call for dates and quinces in the pastry.

                       Enter Old Capulet.


  Cap. Come, stir, stir, stir! The second cock hath crow'd,
    The curfew bell hath rung, 'tis three o'clock.
    Look to the bak'd meats, good Angelica;
    Spare not for cost.

  Nurse. Go, you cot-quean, go,
    Get you to bed! Faith, you'll be sick to-morrow
    For this night's watching.

  Cap. No, not a whit. What, I have watch'd ere now
    All night for lesser cause, and ne'er been sick.

  Lady. Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt in your time;
    But I will watch you from such watching now.
                                          Exeunt Lady and Nurse.

  Cap. A jealous hood, a jealous hood!


  Enter three or four [Fellows, with spits and logs and baskets.

    What is there? Now, fellow,

  Fellow. Things for the cook, sir; but I know not what.

  Cap. Make haste, make haste. [Exit Fellow.] Sirrah, fetch drier
      logs.
    Call Peter; he will show thee where they are.

  Fellow. I have a head, sir, that will find out logs
    And never trouble Peter for the matter.

  Cap. Mass, and well said; a merry whoreson, ha!
    Thou shalt be loggerhead. [Exit Fellow.] Good faith, 'tis day.
    The County will be here with music straight,
    For so he said he would.                         Play music.
    I hear him near.
    Nurse! Wife! What, ho! What, nurse, I say!

                              Enter Nurse.
    Go waken Juliet; go and trim her up.
    I'll go and chat with Paris. Hie, make haste,
    Make haste! The bridegroom he is come already:
    Make haste, I say.
                                                       [Exeunt.]





Scene V.
Juliet's chamber.

[Enter Nurse.]


  Nurse. Mistress! what, mistress! Juliet! Fast, I warrant her, she.
    Why, lamb! why, lady! Fie, you slug-abed!
    Why, love, I say! madam! sweetheart! Why, bride!
    What, not a word? You take your pennyworths now!
    Sleep for a week; for the next night, I warrant,
    The County Paris hath set up his rest
    That you shall rest but little. God forgive me!
    Marry, and amen. How sound is she asleep!
    I needs must wake her. Madam, madam, madam!
    Ay, let the County take you in your bed!
    He'll fright you up, i' faith. Will it not be?
                                     [Draws aside the curtains.]
    What, dress'd, and in your clothes, and down again?
    I must needs wake you. Lady! lady! lady!
    Alas, alas! Help, help! My lady's dead!
    O weraday that ever I was born!
    Some aqua-vitae, ho! My lord! my lady!

                           Enter Mother.


  Mother. What noise is here?

  Nurse. O lamentable day!

  Mother. What is the matter?

  Nurse. Look, look! O heavy day!

  Mother. O me, O me! My child, my only life!
    Revive, look up, or I will die with thee!
    Help, help! Call help.

                            Enter Father.


  Father. For shame, bring Juliet forth; her lord is come.

  Nurse. She's dead, deceas'd; she's dead! Alack the day!

  Mother. Alack the day, she's dead, she's dead, she's dead!

  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.

  Nurse. O lamentable day!

  Mother. O woful time!

  Cap. Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail,
    Ties up my tongue and will not let me speak.


  Enter Friar [Laurence] and the County [Paris], with Musicians.


  Friar. Come, is the bride ready to go to church?

  Cap. Ready to go, but never to return.
    O son, the night before thy wedding day
    Hath Death lain with thy wife. 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, living, all is Death's.

  Par. Have I thought long to see this morning's face,
    And doth it give me such a sight as this?

  Mother. Accurs'd, unhappy, wretched, hateful day!
    Most miserable hour that e'er time saw
    In lasting labour 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.
    O woful day! O woful day!

  Par. Beguil'd, divorced, wronged, spited, slain!
    Most detestable Death, by thee beguil'd,
    By cruel cruel thee quite overthrown!
    O love! O life! not life, but love in death

  Cap. Despis'd, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd!
    Uncomfortable time, why cam'st thou now
    To murther, murther our solemnity?
    O child! O child! my soul, and not my child!
    Dead art thou, dead! alack, my child is dead,
    And with my child my joys are buried!

  Friar. 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 advanc'd;
    And weep ye now, seeing she is advanc'd
    Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself?
    O, 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.

  Friar. Sir, go you in; and, madam, go with him;
    And go, Sir Paris. Every one prepare
    To follow this fair corse unto her grave.
    The heavens do low'r upon you for some ill;
    Move them no more by crossing their high will.
                           Exeunt. Manent Musicians [and Nurse].
  1. Mus. 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.]
  1. Mus. Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended.

                         Enter Peter.


  Pet. Musicians, O, musicians, 'Heart's ease,' 'Heart's ease'!
    O, an you will have me live, play 'Heart's ease.'
  1. Mus. Why 'Heart's ease'',

  Pet. O, musicians, because my heart itself plays 'My heart is
    full of woe.' O, play me some merry dump to comfort me.
  1. Mus. Not a dump we! 'Tis no time to play now.

  Pet. You will not then?
  1. Mus. No.

  Pet. I will then give it you soundly.
  1. Mus. What will you give us?

  Pet. No money, on my faith, but the gleek. I will give you the
     minstrel.
  1. Mus. Then will I give you the serving-creature.

  Pet. 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. Mus. An you re us and fa us, you note us.
  2. Mus. Pray you put up your dagger, and put out your wit.

  Pet. 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. Mus. Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound.

  Pet. Pretty! What say You, Hugh Rebeck?
  2. Mus. I say 'silver sound' because musicians sound for silver.

  Pet. Pretty too! What say you, James Soundpost?
  3. Mus. Faith, I know not what to say.

  Pet. O, I cry you mercy! you are the singer. I will say for you. It
    is 'music with her silver sound' because musicians have no
    gold for sounding.

           'Then music with her silver sound
             With speedy help doth lend redress.'         [Exit.

  1. Mus. What a pestilent knave is this same?
  2. Mus. Hang him, Jack! Come, we'll in here, tarry for the
    mourners, and stay dinner.
                                                         Exeunt.

 In her bedchamber, Juliet asks the Nurse to let her spend the night by herself, and repeats the request to Lady Capulet when she arrives. Alone, clutching the vial given to her by Friar Lawrence, she wonders what will happen when she drinks it. If the friar is untrustworthy and seeks merely to hide his role in her marriage to Romeo, she might die; or, if Romeo is late for some reason, she might awaken in the tomb and go mad with fear. She has a vision in which she sees Tybalt's ghost searching for Romeo. She begs Tybalt's ghost to quit its search for Romeo, and toasting to Romeo, drinks the contents of the vial. Act 4, scenes 4-5 Early the next morning, the Capulet house is aflutter with preparations for the wedding. Capulet sends the Nurse to go wake Juliet. She finds Juliet dead and begins to wail, soon joined by both Lady Capulet and Capulet. Paris arrives with Friar Lawrence and a group of musicians for the wedding. When he learns what has happened, Paris joins in the lamentations. The friar reminds them all that Juliet has gone to a better place, and urges them to make ready for her funeral. Sorrowfully, they comply, and exit. Left behind, the musicians begin to pack up, their task cut short. Peter, the Capulet servant, enters and asks the musicians to play a happy tune to ease his sorrowful heart. The musicians refuse, arguing that to play such music would be inappropriate. Angered, Peter insults the musicians, who respond in kind. After singing a final insult at the musicians, Peter leaves. The musicians decide to wait for the mourners to return so that they might get to eat the lunch that will be served. 5 -

