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