Every good hap to you, that chances here: It were a grief, so brief to part with thee: SCENE IV. [Exeunt. A Room in CAPULET's House. Enter CAPULET, Lady CAP- Cap. Things have fallen out, sir, so unluckily, I would have been a-bed an hour ago. Par. These times of woe afford no time to woo:Madam, good-night : commend me to your daughter. La. Cap. I will, and know her mind early to-morrow; To-night she's mew'd up to her heaviness. Cap. Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender Par. Monday, my lord. Cap. Monday? ha ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon, Will you be ready? do you like this haste? Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends, Prepare her, wife, against this wedding day. Farewell, my lord.-Light to my chamber, ho! [9] Desperate means only bold, adventurous; as if he had said in the vulgar phrase, I will speak a bold word, and venture to promise you my daugh. ter." JOHNSON. Afore me, it is so very late, that we May call it early by and by :--Good-night. SCENE V. [Exeunt. JULIET's Chamber. Enter ROMEO and JULIET. Jul. Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day: Rom. It was the lark, the herald of the morn, I'll say, yon grey is not the morning's eye, Jul. It is, it is, hie hence, be gone, away; Some say, the lark and loathed toad change eyes; JOHNSON. MAL. [1] The appearance of a cloud opposed to the moon. [2] Care was frequently used in Shakspeare's age for inclination [3] The toad having very fine eyes, and the lark very ugly onès, was the occasion of a common saying among the people, that the toad and lark had changed eyes. To this the speaker alludes. WARBURTON. This tradition of the toad and lark I have heard expressed in a rustic rhyne: -To heaven I'd fly, Eat that the toad beguil'd me of mine eye," JOHNSON. Hunting thee hence with hunts-up to the day.4 , now be gone; more light and light it grows. Rom. More light and light?—more dark and dark Nurse. Your lady mother's coming to your chamber: The day is broke, be wary, look about. [Exit. Jul. Then, window, let day in, and let life out. Rom. Farewell, farewell! one kiss, and I'll descend. [ROMEO descends. Jul. Art thou gone so? my love! my lord! my friend! I must hear from thee every day i' the hour, For in a minute there are many days: O! by this count I shall be much in years, Rom. Farewell! I will omit no opportunity That may convey my greetings, love, to thee. Jul. O, think'st thou, we shall ever meet again? Rom. I doubt it not: and all these woes shall serve For sweet discourses in our time to come. Jul. O God! I have an ill-divining soul:5 Methinks, I see thee, now thou art below, As one dead in the bottom of a tomb: Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale. Rom. And trust me, love, in my eye so do you: Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu! adieu! [Exit. Jul. O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle: If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him That is renown'd for faith? Be fickle, fortune; For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long, But send him back. La. Cap. [Within.] Ho, daughter! are you up? Jul. Who is't that calls? Is it my lady mother? Is she not down so late, or up so early? What unaccustom'd cause procures her hither? Enter Lady CAPULET. La. Cap. Why, how now, Juliet? Jul. Madam, I am not well. [4] The hunts-up was the name of the tune anciently played to wake the hunters, and collect them together. STEEVENS. [5] This miserable prescience of futurity I have always regarded as a circumstance particularly beautiful. The same kind of warning from the mind Romeo seems to have been conscious of, on his going to the entertain ment at the house of Capulet. STEEVENS, La. Cap. Evermore weeping for your cousin's death? What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears? An if thou could'st, thou could'st not make him live ; Therefore, have done : Some grief shows much of love; But much of grief shows still some want of wit. Jul. Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss. La. Cap. So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend Which you weep for. Jul. Feeling so the loss, I cannot choose but ever weep the friend. La. Cap. Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death, As that the villain lives which slaughter'd him. La. Cap. That same villain, Romeo: Jul. Villain and he are many miles asunder.- La. Cap. That is, because the traitor murderer lives. Jul. Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands: 'Would, none but I might venge my cousin's death! La. Cap. We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not: Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua,Where that same banish'd runagate doth live,— That shall bestow on him so sure a draught, That he shall soon keep Tybalt company : And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied. Jul. Indeed, I never shall be satisfied With Romeo, till I behold him-deadIs my poor heart so for a kinsman vex'd :Madam, if you could find out but a man To bear a poison, I would temper it; That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof, Soon sleep in quiet.—Ô, how my heart abhors To hear him nam'd,-and cannot come to him,To wreak the love I bore my cousin Tybalt Upon his body that hath slaughter'd him! La. Cap. Find thou the means, and I'll find such a man. But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl. Jul. And joy comes well in such a needful time: What are they, I beseech your ladyship? La. Cap. Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child One, who, to put thee from thy heaviness, Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy, That thou expect'st not, nor I look'd not for. Jul. Madam, in happy time, what day is that? La. Cap. Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn, Jul. Now, by Saint Peter's church, and Peter too, La. Cap. Here comes your father; tell him so yourself, And see how he will take it at your hands. Enter CAPULET and Nurse. Cap. When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle dew; But for the sunset of my brother's son, It rains downright.— How now? a conduit, girl? what, still in tears? Thou counterfeit'st a bark, a sea, a wind: Thy tempest-tossed body.-How now, wife! La. Cap. Ay, sir; but she will none, she gives you thanks. I would, the fool were married to her grave! Cap. Soft, take me with you, take me with you, wife. How will she none? doth she not give us thanks? Is she not proud? Doth she not count her bless'd, Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom? Jul. Not proud, you have; but thankful, that you have:~~ Proud can I never be of what I hate ; [6] It is remarked, that "Paris, though in one place called Earl, is most "commonly styled the Countie in this play. Shakspeare seems to have pre"ferred, for some reason or other, the Italian Comte to our Count: perhaps " he took it from the old English novel, from which he is said to have taken "his plot." He certainly did so: Paris is there first styled a young Earle. and afterwards Counte, Countee, and County; according to the unsettled or. thography of the time. FARMER. |