Part 24

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

Nur. O wo, O wofull, wofull, wofull day, Most lamentable day, most wofull day, That euer, euer, I did yet behold. O day, O day, O day, O hatefull day, Neuer was seene so blacke a day as this: O wofull day, O wofull day

Pa. Beguild, diuorced, wronged, spighted, slaine, Most detestable death, by thee beguil'd, By cruell, cruell thee, quite ouerthrowne: O loue, O life; not life, but loue in death

Fat. Despis'd, distressed, hated, martir'd, kil'd, Vncomfortable time, why cam'st thou now To murther, murther our solemnitie? O Child, O Child; my soule, and not my Child, Dead art thou, alacke my Child is dead, And with my Child, my ioyes are buried

Fri. Peace ho for shame, confusions: Care liues not In these confusions, heauen and your selfe Had part in this faire Maid, now heauen hath all, And all the better is it for the Maid: Your part in her, you could not keepe from death, But heauen keepes his part in eternall life: The most you sought was her promotion, For 'twas your heauen, she shouldst be aduan'st, And weepe ye now, seeing she is aduan'st Aboue the Cloudes, as high as Heauen it selfe? O in this loue, you loue your Child so ill, That you run mad, seeing that she is well: Shee's not well married, that liues married long, But shee's best married, that dies married yong. Drie vp your teares, and sticke your Rosemarie On this faire Coarse, and as the custome is, And in her best array beare her to Church: For though some Nature bids all vs lament, Yet Natures teares are Reasons merriment

Fa. All things that we ordained Festiuall, Turne from their office to blacke Funerall: Our instruments to melancholy Bells, Our wedding cheare, to a sad buriall Feast: Our solemne Hymnes, to sullen Dyrges change: Our Bridall flowers serue for a buried Coarse: And all things change them to the contrarie

Fri. Sir go you in; and Madam, go with him, And go sir Paris, euery one prepare To follow this faire Coarse vnto her graue: The heauens do lowre vpon you, for some ill: Moue them no more, by crossing their high will.

Exeunt.

Mu. Faith we may put vp our Pipes and be gone

Nur. Honest goodfellowes: Ah put vp, put vp, For well you know, this is a pitifull case

Mu. I by my troth, the case may be amended. Enter Peter.

Pet. Musitions, oh Musitions, Hearts ease, hearts ease, O, and you will haue me liue, play hearts ease

Mu. Why hearts ease; Pet. O Musitions, Because my heart it selfe plaies, my heart is full

Mu. Not a dump we, 'tis no time to play now

Pet. You will not then? Mu. No

Pet. I will then giue it you soundly

Mu. What will you giue vs? Pet. No money on my faith, but the gleeke. I will giue you the Minstrell

Mu. Then will I giue you the Seruing creature

Peter. Then will I lay the seruing Creatures Dagger on your pate. I will carie no Crochets, Ile Re you, Ile Fa you, do you note me? Mu. And you Re vs, and Fa vs, you Note vs

2.M. Pray you put vp your Dagger, And put out your wit. Then haue at you with my wit

Peter. I will drie-beate you with an yron wit, And put vp my yron Dagger. Answere me like men: When griping griefes the heart doth wound, then Musicke with her siluer sound. Why siluer sound? why Musicke with her siluer sound? what say you Simon Catling? Mu. Mary sir, because siluer hath a sweet sound

Pet. Pratest, what say you Hugh Rebicke? 2.M. I say siluer sound, because Musitions sound for siluer Pet. Pratest to, what say you Iames Sound-Post? 3.Mu. Faith I know not what to say

Pet. O I cry you mercy, you are the Singer. I will say for you; it is Musicke with her siluer sound, Because Musitions haue no gold for sounding: Then Musicke with her siluer sound, with speedy helpe doth lend redresse. Enter.

Mu. What a pestilent knaue is this same? M.2. Hang him Iacke, come weele in here, tarrie for the Mourners, and stay dinner. Enter.

Enter Romeo.

Rom. If I may trust the flattering truth of sleepe, My dreames presage some ioyfull newes at hand: My bosomes L. sits lightly in his throne: And all this day an vnaccustom'd spirit, Lifts me aboue the ground with cheerefull thoughts. I dreamt my Lady came and found me dead, (Strange dreame that giues a dead man leaue to thinke,) And breath'd such life with kisses in my lips, That I reuiu'd and was an Emperour. Ah me, how sweet is loue it selfe possest, When but loues shadowes are so rich in ioy. Enter Romeo's man.

Newes from Verona, how now Balthazer? Dost thou not bring me Letters from the Frier? How doth my Lady? Is my Father well? How doth my Lady Iuliet? that I aske againe, For nothing can be ill, is she be well

Man. Then she is well, and nothing can be ill. Her body sleepes in Capels Monument, And her immortall part with Angels liue, I saw her laid low in her kindreds Vault, And presently tooke Poste to tell it you: O pardon me for bringing these ill newes, Since you did leaue it for my office Sir