But I'll amerce you with fo ftrong a fine,
That you shall all repent the lofs of mine.
I will be deaf to pleading and excuses,
Nor tears nor prayers fhall purchase out abuses;
Therefore use none; let Romeo hence in hafte,
Elfe, when he's found, that hour is his last.
Bear hence his body, and attend our will:
Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Changes to an Apartment in Capulet's House.

Enter Juliet alone.

Jul. G Tow'rds Phebus' manfion; fuch a wag

ALLOP apace, you fiery-footed fteeds,

goner,

As Phaeton, would whip you to the west,
And bring in cloudy night immediately.

7 Spread thy close curtain, love performing night,
That Run-aways eyes may wink; and Romeo

Leap

eyes Juliet is withing to have ftopt? Macbeth, we may remember, makes an invocation to Night much in the fame ftrain, -Come, feeling Night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day, &c.

So Juliet would have Night's darkness obfcure the great eye of the day, the Sun; whom confidering in a poetical light as Phebus, drawn in his carr with fieryfooted steeds, and pulling thro' the heavens, the very properly calls

Leap to these arms, untalkt of and unfeen.
Lovers can fee to do their am'rous rites
By their own beauties, or, if love be blind,
It beft agrees with night.

8

Come, civil night,

Thou fober-fuited matron, all in black,

And learn me how to lose a winning match,
Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenheads.

Hood my unmann'd blood baiting in my cheeks, With thy black mantle; 'till ftrange love, grown bold,

Thinks true love acted, fimple modefly.

Come, night; come, Romeo! come, thou day in night!

For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night,

Whiter than fnow upon a raven's back:

Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-brow'd night!

Give me my Romeo, and, when he fhall die,

Take him and cut him out in little stars,

And he will make the face of heaven fo fine,
That all the world fhall be in love with night,
And pay no worship to the gairish fun.
O, I have bought the manfion of a love,
But not poffefs'd it; and though I am fold,
Not yet enjoy'd; fo tedious is this day,

him, with regard to the swift-
nefs of his course, the Runaway.
In the like manner our Poet
fpeaks of the Night in the Mer-
hant of Venice;

For the clofe Night doth play the
Runaway.
WARB.

I am not fatisfied with this emendation, yet have nothing better to propose.

Come, civil night,] Civil is grave, decently folemn.

9-unmann'd blood-] Blood

yet unacquainted with man.

The gairif fun.] Milton had
this fpeech in his thoughts when
he wrote Il Penferrfo.
Civil night,

Thou fober-fuited matron.
Shakespeare.
Till civi'-fuited morn appear.
Milton.

Pay no worship to the gairish
Jun.
Shakespeare.
Hide me from Day's gairish eye.
Milton.

As is the night before fome feftival,

To an impatient child that hath new robes,
And may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse !

Enter Nurfe with cords...

And she brings news; and every tongue, that fpeaks
But Romeo's name, fpeaks heavenly eloquence;
Now, nurfe, what news? what haft thou there?
The cords that Romeo bid thee fetch?

Nurfe. Ay, ay, the cords.

ful. Ah me, what news?

Why dost thou wring thy hands?

Nurfe. Ah welladay, he's dead, he's dead, he's dead!

We are undone, lady, we are undone.

Alack the day! he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead.
Jul. Can heaven be fo envious?

Nurfe. Romeo can,

Though heav'n cannot.

O Romeo! Romeo!

Who ever would have thought it, Romeo?

Jul. What devil art thou, that doft torment mè thus ?

This torture fhould be roar'd in difmal hell.
Hath Romeo flain himself? fay thou but, I;
* And that bare vowel, I, fhall poifon more
Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice.

Nurfe. I faw the wound, I faw it with mine eyes, (God fave the mark,) here on his manly breast. A piteous coarse, a bloody piteous coarse; Pale, pale as afhes, all bedawb'd in blood, All in gore blood, I fwooned at the fight. Jul. O break, my heart!-poor bankrupt, break

at once!

To prifon, eyes! ne'er look on liberty;
Vile earth to earth refign, end motion here,
And thou and Romeo prefs one heavy bier!
Nurfe. O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had:
O courteous Tybalt, honeft gentleman,

That ever I should live to fee thee dead!

Jul. What ftorm is this, that blows fo contrary!
Is Romeo flaughter'd? and is Tybalt dead?
My dear-lov'd coufin, and my dearer Lord?
Then let the trumpet found the general Doom,
For who is living, if thofe two are gone?
Nurfe. Tybalt is dead, and Romeo banished,
Romeo, that kill'd him, he is banished.

Jul. O God! did Romeo's hand fhed Tybalt's blood?

Nurfe. It did, it did. Alas, the day! it did.
Jul. O ferpent-heart, hid with a flow'ring face!
Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave ?
Beautiful tyrant, fiend angelical!

'Dove-feather'd raven! wolvifh rav'ning Lamb!.
Defpifed fubftance, of divineft show!
Juft opposite to what thou justly feem'st,
A damned Saint, an honourable villain!
O nature what hadst thou to do in hell,
When thou didit bower the Spirit of a fiend
In mortal Paradife of fuch fweet flesh?
Was ever book, containing fuch vile matter,
So fairly bound? O, that deceit should dwell
In fuch a gorgeous palace!

Nurfe. There's no truft,

No faith, no honesty, in men; all perjur'd;
All, all forfworn; all naught; and all diffemblers.
Ah, where's my man? Give me some Aqua vitæ—
These griefs, thefe woes, these forrows make me old !
Shame come to Romeo!

ful. Blifter'd be thy tongue,

For fuch a wifh! he was not born to fhame;
Upon his brow fhame is afham'd to fit:
For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd
Sole monarch of the universal earth.

O, what a beaft was I to chide him fo?

Nurfe. Will you fpeak well of him, that kill'd your coufin?

Jul. Shall I fpeak ill of him, that is my husband?