[Sc. XIX.]
Enter Nurse with hearbs, Mother.
Moth: Thats well said Nurse, set all in redines,
The Countie will be heere immediatly.
Enter Oldeman.
Cap: Make hast, make hast, for it is almost day,
The Curfewe bell hath rung, t'is foure a clocke,
Looke to your bakt meates good Angelica.
Nur: Goe get you to bed you cotqueane. I faith you
will be sicke anone.
Cap: I warrant thee Nurse I haue ere now watcht all
night, and haue taken no harme at all.
Moth: I you haue beene a mouse hunt in your time. 10
Enter Seruingman with Logs & Coales.
Cap: A Ielous hood, a Ielous hood: How now sirra?
What haue you there?
Ser: Forsooth Logs.
Cap: Goe, goe choose dryer. Will will tell thee where
thou shalt fetch them. 15
Ser: Nay I warrant let me alone, I haue a heade I troe to
choose a Log.
Exit.
Cap: Well goe thy way, thou shalt be logger head.
Come, come, make hast call vp your daughter,
The Countie will be heere with musicke straight. 20
Gods me hees come, Nurse call vp my daughter.
Nur: Goe, get you gone. What lambe, what Lady
birde? fast I warrant. What Iuliet? well, let the County take
you in your bed: yee sleepe for a weeke now, but the next
night, the Countie Paris hath set vp his rest that you shal rest25
but little. What lambe I say, fast still: what Lady, Loue,
whatbride, what Iuliet? Gods me how sound she sleeps? Nay
then I see I must wake you indeed. Whats heere, laide on
your bed, drest in your cloathes and down, ah me, alack the
day, some Aqua vitæ hoe. 30
Enter Mother.
Moth: How now whats the matter?
Nur: Alack the day, shees dead, shees dead, shees dead.
Moth: Accurst, vnhappy, miserable time.
Enter Oldeman.
Cap: Come, come, make hast, wheres my daughter?
Moth: Ah shees dead, shees dead. 35
Cap: Stay, let me see, all pale and wan.
Accursed time, vnfortunate olde man.
Enter Fryer and Paris.
Par: What is the bride ready to goe to Church?
Cap: Ready to goe, but neuer to returne.
O Sonne the night before thy wedding day, 40
Hath Death laine with thy bride, flower as she is,
Deflowerd by him, see, where she lyes,
Death is my Sonne in Law, to him I giue all that I haue,
Par: Haue I thought long to see this mornings face,
And doth it now present such prodegies? 45
Accurst, vnhappy, miserable man,
Forlorne, forsaken, destitute I am:
Borne to the world to be a slaue in it.
Distrest, remediles, and vnfortunate.
O heauens, O nature, wherefore did you make me, 50
To liue so vile, so wretched as I shall.
Cap: O heere she lies that was our hope, our ioy,
And being dead, dead sorrow nips vs all.
All at once cry out and wring their hands.
All cry: And all our ioy, and all our hope is dead,
Dead, lost, vndone, absented, wholy fled. 55
Cap: Cruel, vniust, impartiall destinies,
Why to this day haue you preseru'd my life?
To see my hope, my stay, my ioy, my life,
Depriude of sence, of life, of all by death,
Cruell, vniust, impartiall destinies. 60
Cap: O sad fac'd sorrow map of misery,
Why this sad time haue I desird to see.
This day, this vniust, this impartiall day
Wherein I hop'd to see my comfort full,
To be depriude by suddaine destinie. 65
Moth: O woe, alacke, distrest, why should I liue?
To see this day, this miserable day.
Alacke the time that euer I was borne.
To be partaker of this destinie.
Alacke the day, alacke and welladay. 70
Fr: O peace for shame, if not for charity.
Your daughter liues in peace and happines,
And it is vaine to wish it otherwise.
Come sticke your Rosemary in this dead coarse,
And as the custome of our Country is, 75
In all her best and sumptuous ornaments,
Conuay her where her Ancestors lie tomb'd,
Cap: Let it be so, come wofull sorrow mates,
Let vs together taste this bitter fate.
They all but the Nurse goe foorth, casting Rosemary on her and shutting the Curtens.
Enter Musitions.
Nur: Put vp, put vp, this is a wofull case. Exit.80
1. I by my troth Mistresse is it, it had need be mended.
Enter Seruingman.
Ser: Alack alack what shal I doe, come Fidlers play me
some mery dumpe.
1. A sir, this is no time to play.
Ser: You will not then? 85
1. No marry will wee.
Ser: Then will I giue it you, and soundly to.
Ser: The fidler, Ile re you, Ile fa you, Ile sol you.
1. If you re vs and fa vs, we will note you. 90
Ser: I will put vp my Iron dagger, and beate you with
my wodden wit. Come on Simon found Pot, Ile pose you,
1. Lets heare.
Ser: When griping griefe the heart doth wound,
And dolefull dumps the minde oppresse: 95
Then musique with her siluer sound,
Why siluer sound? Why siluer sound?
1. I thinke because musicke hath a sweet sound.
Ser: Pretie, what say you Mathew minikine?
2. I thinke because Musitions sound for siluer. 100
Ser: Prettie too: come, what say you?
3. I say nothing.
Ser: I thinke so, Ile speake for you because you are the
Singer. I saye Siluer sound, because such Fellowes as you
haue sildome Golde for sounding. Farewell Fidlers, 105
farewell. Exit.
1. Farewell and be hangd: come lets goe. Exeunt.