. . . . Go, counsellor,
Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twain.
By the Friar’s advice, Juliet at length consents to marry Paris, and then Capulet is filled with impotent glee—being as absurd now in his joy as he lately was in his anger. When Juliet the next morning is found apparently dead, the lamentations of the several persons present (each of whom indulges his own proper emotions) are singularly in character. Capulet—the “rich” Capulet, as he is often styled in the play—bewails the loss of his “heir;” Lady Capulet mourns for her “only child;” Paris for his “love in death;” whilst the Nurse indulges her grief in boisterous and empty vociferation —
O wo! O woful, woful, woful day!
Most lamentable day! most woful day
That ever, ever I did yet behold!
O day! O day! O day! O hateful day.
The musicians who had come to play at the wedding are about to retire, when Peter enters and engages them in a quibbling conversation; and in the course of it recites the following verses, which are also made to inculcate the great sentiment of the play, the readiness with which the mind submits to passing influences:
When griping grief the heart doth wound,
And doleful dumps the mind oppress,