Shakespeare's First Folio Part 510

Exit Paris.

Iul. O shut the doore, and when thou hast done so, Come weepe with me, past hope, past care, past helpe

Fri. O Iuliet, I alreadie know thy griefe, It streames me past the compa.s.se of my wits: I heare thou must and nothing may prorogue it, On Thursday next be married to this Countie

Iul. Tell me not Frier that thou hearest of this, Vnlesse thou tell me how I may preuent it: If in thy wisedome, thou canst giue no helpe, Do thou but call my resolution wise, And with this knife, Ile helpe it presently.

G.o.d ioyn'd my heart, and Romeos, thou our hands, And ere this hand by thee to Romeo seal'd: Shall be the Labell to another Deede, Or my true heart with trecherous reuolt, Turne to another, this shall slay them both: Therefore out of thy long experien'st time, Giue me some present counsell, or behold Twixt my extreames and me, this b.l.o.o.d.y knife Shall play the vmpeere, arbitrating that, Which the commission of thy yeares and art, Could to no issue of true honour bring: Be not so long to speak, I long to die, If what thou speak'st, speake not of remedy

Fri. Hold Daughter, I doe spie a kind of hope, Which craues as desperate an execution, As that is desperate which we would preuent.

If rather then to marrie Countie Paris Thou hast the strength of will to slay thy selfe, Then is it likely thou wilt vndertake A thing like death to chide away this shame, That coap'st with death himselfe, to scape fro it: And if thou dar'st, Ile giue thee remedie

Iul. Oh bid me leape, rather then marrie Paris, From of the Battlements of any Tower, Or walke in theeuish waies, or bid me lurke Where Serpents are: chaine me with roaring Beares Or hide me nightly in a Charnell house, Orecouered quite with dead mens ratling bones, With reckie shankes and yellow chappels sculls: Or bid me go into a new made graue, And hide me with a dead man in his graue, Things that to heare them told, haue made me tremble, And I will doe it without feare or doubt, To liue an vnstained wife to my sweet Loue

Fri. Hold then: goe home, be merrie, giue consent, To marrie Paris: wensday is to morrow, To morrow night looke that thou lie alone, Let not thy Nurse lie with thee in thy Chamber: Take thou this Violl being then in bed, And this distilling liquor drinke thou off, When presently through all thy veines shall run, A cold and drowsie humour: for no pulse Shall keepe his natiue progresse, but surcease: No warmth, no breath shall testifie thou liuest, The Roses in thy lips and cheekes shall fade To many ashes, the eyes windowes fall Like death when he shut vp the day of life: Each part depriu'd of supple gouernment, Shall stiffe and starke, and cold appeare like death, And in this borrowed likenesse of shrunke death Thou shalt continue two and forty houres, And then awake, as from a pleasant sleepe.

Now when the Bridegroome in the morning comes, To rowse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead: Then as the manner of our country is, In thy best Robes vncouer'd on the Beere, Be borne to buriall in thy kindreds graue: Thou shalt be borne to that same ancient vault, Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie, In the meane time against thou shalt awake, Shall Romeo by my Letters know our drift, And hither shall he come, and that very night Shall Romeo beare thee hence to Mantua.

And this shall free thee from this present shame, If no inconstant toy nor womanish feare, Abate thy valour in the acting it

Iul. Giue me, giue me, O tell me not of care

Fri. Hold get you gone, be strong and prosperous: In this resolue, Ile send a Frier with speed To Mantua with my Letters to thy Lord

Iu. Loue giue me strength, And the strength shall helpe afford: Farewell deare father.

Exit

Enter Father Capulet, Mother, Nurse, and Seruing men, two or three.

Cap. So many guests inuite as here are writ, Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning Cookes

Ser. You shall haue none ill sir, for Ile trie if they can licke their fingers

Cap. How canst thou trie them so?

Ser. Marrie sir, 'tis an ill Cooke that cannot licke his owne fingers: therefore he that cannot licke his fingers goes not with me

Cap. Go be gone, we shall be much vnfurnisht for this time: what is my Daughter gone to Frier Lawrence?

Nur. I forsooth

Cap. Well he may chance to do some good on her, A peeuish selfe-wild harlotry it is.

Enter Iuliet.

Nur. See where she comes from shrift With merrie looke

Cap. How now my headstrong, Where haue you bin gadding?

Iul. Where I haue learnt me to repent the sin Of disobedient opposition: To you and your behests, and am enioyn'd By holy Lawrence, to fall prostrate here, To beg your pardon: pardon I beseech you, Henceforward I am euer rul'd by you

Cap. Send for the Countie, goe tell him of this, Ile haue this knot knit vp to morrow morning

Iul. I met the youthfull Lord at Lawrence Cell, And gaue him what becomed Loue I might, Not stepping ore the bounds of modestie

Cap. Why I am glad on't, this is well, stand vp, This is as't should be, let me see the County: I marrie go I say, and fetch him hither.

Now afore G.o.d, this reueren'd holy Frier, All our whole Cittie is much bound to him

Iul. Nurse will you goe with me into my Closet, To helpe me sort such needfull ornaments, As you thinke fit to furnish me to morrow?

Mo. No not till Thursday, there's time inough

Fa. Go Nurse, go with her, Weele to Church to morrow.

Exeunt. Iuliet and Nurse.

Mo. We shall be short in our prouision, 'Tis now neere night

Fa. Tush, I will stirre about, And all things shall be well, I warrant thee wife: Go thou to Iuliet, helpe to decke vp her, Ile not to bed to night, let me alone: Ile play the huswife for this once. What ho?

They are all forth, well I will walke my selfe To Countie Paris, to prepare him vp Against to morrow, my heart is wondrous light, Since this same way-ward Gyrle is so reclaim'd.

Exeunt. Father and Mother.

Enter Iuliet and Nurse.

Iul. I those attires are best, but gentle Nurse I pray thee leaue me to my selfe to night: For I haue need of many Orysons, To moue the heauens to smile vpon my state, Which well thou know'st, is crosse and full of sin.

Enter Mother.

Mo. What are you busie ho? need you my help?

Iul. No Madam, we haue cul'd such necessaries As are behoouefull for our state to morrow: So please you, let me now be left alone; And let the Nurse this night sit vp with you, For I am sure, you haue your hands full all, In this so sudden businesse

Mo. Goodnight.

Get thee to bed and rest, for thou hast need.

Exeunt.

Iul. Farewell: G.o.d knowes when we shall meete againe.

I haue a faint cold feare thrills through my veines, That almost freezes vp the heate of fire: Ile call them backe againe to comfort me.

Nurse, what should she do here?

My dismall Sceane, I needs must act alone: Come Viall, what if this mixture do not worke at all?

Shall I be married then to morrow morning?

No, no, this shall forbid it. Lie thou there, What if it be a poyson which the Frier Subtilly hath ministred to haue me dead, Least in this marriage he should be dishonour'd, Because he married me before to Romeo?

I feare it is, and yet me thinkes it should not, For he hath still beene tried a holy man.

How, if when I am laid into the Tombe, I wake before the time that Romeo Come to redeeme me? There's a fearefull point: Shall I not then be stifled in the Vault?

To whose foule mouth no healthsome ayre breaths in, And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes.

Or if I liue, is it not very like, The horrible conceit of death and night, Together with the terror of the place, As in a Vaulte, an ancient receptacle, Where for these many hundred yeeres the bones Of all my buried Auncestors are packt, Where b.l.o.o.d.y Tybalt, yet but greene in earth, Lies festring in his shrow'd, where as they say, At some houres in the night, Spirits resort: Alacke, alacke, is it not like that I So early waking, what with loathsome smels, And shrikes like Mandrakes torne out of the earth, That liuing mortalls hearing them, run mad.

O if I wake, shall I not be distraught, Inuironed with all these hidious feares, And madly play with my forefathers ioynts?

And plucke the mangled Tybalt from his shrow'd?

And in this rage, with some great kinsmans bone, As (with a club) dash out my desperate braines.

O looke, me thinks I see my Cozins Ghost, Seeking out Romeo that did spit his body Vpon my Rapiers point: stay Tybalt, stay; Romeo, Romeo, Romeo, here's drinke: I drinke to thee.

Enter Lady of the house, and Nurse.

Lady. Hold, Take these keies, and fetch more spices Nurse

Nur. They call for Dates and Quinces in the Pastrie.