How, if, when I am laid into the tomb, I wake before the time that Romeo Comes to redeem me? there's a fearful point! To whofe foul mouth no healthfome air breathes in, Or, if I live, is it not very like, The horrible conceit of death and night, Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth, So early waking, what with loathfome fmells, [She throws herfself on the bed. SCENE changes to Capulet's Hall. La. Cap. OLD, take thefe keys and fetch more fpices, Nurfe. HOLD Nurfe. They call for dates and quinces in the pastry. Enter Capulet. Cap. Come, ftir, ftir, ftir, the fecond cock hath crow'd, The curfeu bell hath rung, 'tis three o'clock: Look Look to the bak'd meats, good Angelica, Spare not for cost. Nurfe. Go, go you cot-quean, go; Get you to bed; 'faith, you'll be fick to-morrow, Cap. No, not a whit: what, I have watch'd ere now All night for a less cause, and ne'er been fick. La. Cap. Ay, you have been a moufe-hunt in your time, But I will watch you, from fuch watching, now. [Exeunt Lady Capulet and Nurse. Cap. A jealous hood, a jealous-hoodNow, fellow, what's there? Enter three or four with Spits, and logs, and baskets. Serv. Things for the cook, Sir, but I know not what. Cap. Make hafte, make hafte, firrah, fetch drier logs, Call Peter, he will fhew thee where they are. Serv. I have a head, Sir, that will find out logs, And never trouble Peter for the matter. Cap. 'Mafs, and well faid, a merry whorefon, ha! Thou shalt be logger-head.-Good faith 'tis day. The County will be here with mufick ftraight, [Play mufick For fo, he faid, he would. I hear him near. Enter Nurse. Go, waken Juliet, go and trim her up, I'll go and chat with Paris: hie, make hafte, SCENE changes to Juliet's Chamber, Juliet Nurfe. M' on a bed. Re-enter Nurse. Iftrefs,what, miftrefs! Juliet Faft I warrant her; Why, lamb-why, lady-Fy, you flug-a-bed D 5 Why Why, love, I fay—Madam, sweet-heart-why, bride- That you fhall reft but little-God forgive me— La. Cap. What noise is here? La. Cap. What's the matter? Nurje. Lookoh heavy day! La. Cap. Oh me, oh me, my child, my only life! Revive, look up, or I will die with thee: Help, help! call help. Enter Capulet. Cap. For fhame, bring Juliet forth; her lord is come. Nurfe. She's dead, deceas'd, fhe's dead: alack the day! Cap. Ha! let me fee her-Out, alas! fhe's cold; Her blood is fettled, and her joints are stiff; Life and these lips have long been separated: Death lies on her, like an untimely frott Upon the fweetest flow'r of all the field. Accurfed time! unfortunate old man! Narye. O lamentable day! La. Cap. O woeful 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 Lawrence, and Paris, with Musicians, Fri. Come, is the bride ready to go to church? Cap. Cap. Ready to go, but never to return. O fon, the night before thy wedding-day Hath Death lain with thy wife: fee, there the lies, Flow'r as she was, deflowered now by him: Death is my fon-in-law. Par. Have I thought long to fee this morning's face, And doth it give me fuch a fight as this! La. Cap. Accurs'd, unhappy, wretched, hateful day! Moft miferable hour, that Time e'er faw In lafting labour of his pilgrimage! But one, poor one, one poor and loving child, And cruel death hath catch'd it from my fight. Oh day! oh day! oh day! oh hateful day! Oh woful day, oh woful day! Par. Beguil'd, divorced, wronged, fpighted, flain, Moft deteftable Death, by thee beguil'd, By cruel, cruel thee quite overthrown: O love, life,-not life, but love in death! Cap. Defpis'd, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd, - O child! O child! my foul, and not my child! Fri. Peace, ho, for hame! Confufion's cure lives not (26) In thefe confufions: Heaven and yourself Had (26) Peace bo for fhame, confufions: Care lives not in thefe confum hons.] This fpeech, tho' it contains good chriftian doctrine, tho' it is perfectly in character for the friar, and not the maft defpicable for its poetry, Mr. Pope has curtail'd to little or nothing, because it has not the fanction of the firft old copy. By the fame rule, had he, purfued it throughout, we might have loft fome of the fineft additional ftrokes in the two parts of K. Henry IV. But there was ano ther reafon, 1 fufpect, for curtailing: certain corruptions farted, which Had part in this fair maid: now Heav'n hath all; Your part in her you could not keep from death, which requir'd the indulging his private fenfe to make them intelli gible, and this was an unreasonable labour. As I have reform'd the paffage above quoted, I dare warrant, I have reftor'd our Poet's text; and a fine fenfible reproof it contains, against immoderate grief: for the friar begins with telling them, that the cure of those confufions, into which the melancholy accident had thrown them, did not live in the confus'd and inordinate exclamations which they exprefs'd on that account. (27) For tho' fome Nature bids us all lament.] Some Nature? Sure, it is the general rule of Nature, or fhe could not bid us all lament. I have ventured to fubftitute an epithet, which, I fufpect, was loft in. the idle, corrupted word, Some; and which admirably quadrates with. the verfe fucceeding this; that tho' the fondnefs of Nature lay fuch an injunction upon us, yet that Reason does but mock our unavail. ing forrow. The |