Nur. Go you Cot-queane, go, Get you to bed, faith youle be sicke to morrow For this nights watching
Cap. No not a whit: what? I haue watcht ere now All night for lesse cause, and nere beene sicke
La. I you haue bin a Mouse-hunt in your time, But I will watch you from such watching now.
Exit Lady and Nurse.
Cap. A iealous hood, a iealous hood, Now fellow, what there? Enter three or foure with spits, and logs, and baskets.
Fel. Things for the Cooke sir, but I know not what
Cap. Make hast, make hast, sirrah, fetch drier Logs. Call Peter, he will shew thee where they are
Fel. I haue a head sir, that will find out logs, And neuer trouble Peter for the matter
Cap. Masse and well said, a merrie horson, ha, Thou shalt be loggerhead; good Father, 'tis day.
Play Musicke
The Countie will be here with Musicke straight, For so he said he would, I heare him neere, Nurse, wife, what ho? what Nurse I say? Enter Nurse.
Go waken Iuliet, go and trim her vp, Ile go and chat with Paris: hie, make hast, Make hast, the Bridegroome, he is come already: Make hast I say
Nur. Mistris, what Mistris? Iuliet? Fast I warrant her she. Why Lambe, why Lady? fie you sluggabed, Why Loue I say? Madam, sweet heart: why Bride? What not a word? You take your peniworths now. Sleepe for a weeke, for the next night I warrant The Countie Paris hath set vp his rest, That you shall rest but little, God forgiue me: Marrie and Amen: how sound is she a sleepe? I must needs wake her: Madam, Madam, Madam, I, let the Countie take you in your bed, Heele fright you vp yfaith. Will it not be? What drest, and in your clothes, and downe againe? I must needs wake you: Lady, Lady, Lady? Alas, alas, helpe, helpe, my Ladyes dead, Oh weladay, that euer I was borne, Some Aqua-vitæ ho, my Lord, my Lady? Mo. What noise is heere? Enter Mother.
Nur. O lamentable day
Mo. What is the matter? Nur. Looke, looke, oh heauie day
Mo. O me, O me, my Child, my onely life: Reuiue, looke vp, or I will die with thee: Helpe, helpe, call helpe. Enter Father.
Fa. For shame bring Iuliet forth, her Lord is come
Nur. Shee's dead: deceast, shee's dead: alacke the day
M. Alacke the day, shee's dead, shee's dead, shee's dead
Fa. Ha? Let me see her: out alas shee's cold, Her blood is setled and her ioynts are stiffe: Life and these lips haue long bene seperated: Death lies on her like an vntimely frost Vpon the swetest flower of all the field
Nur. O Lamentable day! Mo. O wofull time
Fa. Death that hath tane her hence to make me waile, Ties vp my tongue, and will not let me speake. Enter Frier and the Countie.
Fri. Come, is the Bride ready to go to Church? Fa. Ready to go, but neuer to returne. O Sonne, the night before thy wedding day, Hath death laine with thy wife: there she lies, Flower as she was, deflowred by him. Death is my Sonne in law, death is my Heire, My Daughter he hath wedded. I will die, And leaue him all life liuing, all is deaths
Pa. Haue I thought long to see this mornings face, And doth it giue me such a sight as this? Mo. Accur'st, vnhappie, wretched hatefull day, Most miserable houre, that ere time saw In lasting labour of his Pilgrimage. But one, poore one, one poore and louing Child, But one thing to reioyce and solace in, And cruell death hath catcht it from my sight