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1 Mus. Then will I give you the serving.creature.
Pet. Then will I lay the serving-creature's dagger on your pate.
I will carry no crotchets : I'll re you, I'll fa you; Do you note me?
1 Mus. An you re us, and fa us, you note us. 2 Mus. Pray you, put up your dagger, and put out your wit.
Pet. Then have at you with my wit; I will drybeat you with an iron wit, and put up my iron dagger - Answer me like men :
When griping grief the heart doth wound,
Then music, with her silver sound;
1 Mus. Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound. · Pet. Pretty! What say you, Hugh Rebeck ?1
2 Mus. say-silver sound, because musicians sound for silver.
Pet. Pretty too What say you, James Soundpost?
3 Mus. 'Faith, I know not what to say. Pet. O, I cry you mercy! you are the singer: I will say for you. It is music with her silver sound, because such fellows as you have seldom gold for sounding
Then music with her silver sound,
(Exit, singing 1 Mus. What a pestilent knave is this same?
2 Mus. Hang him, Jack! Come, we'll in here; tarry for the mourners, and stay dinner. (Exeunt.
(1) • And the jocund rebecks sound.' MILTON.
Rom. If I may trust the flattering eye of sleep,
. Then she is well, and nothing can be ill;
Rom. Is it even so ? then I defy you, stars :-
Bal. Pardon me, sir, I will not leave you
Tush, thou art deceiv'd;
(1) i. e. Love.
Hast thou no letters to me from the friar?
Bal. No, my good lord.
No matter: get thee gone, And hire those horses ; I'll be with thee straight.
[Exit Balthasar. Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night. Let's see for means :-0, mischief, thou art swift To enter in the thoughts of desperate men! I do remember an apothecary, And hereabouts he dwells,—whom late I noted In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows, Culling of simples ;' meagre were his looks, Sharp misery had worn him to the bones ; And in his needy shop a tortoise hung, An alligator stuff'd, and other skins Of ill-shap'd fishes; and about his shelves A beggarly account of empty boxes, Green earthen pots, bladders, and mosty seeds, Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses, Were thinly scatter'd, to make up a show. Noting this penury, to myself I said, An if a man did need a poison now, Whose sale is present death in Mantua, Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him. O, this same thought did but fore-run my need; And this same needy an must sell it me. As I remember, this should be the house : Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut.What, ho! apothecary!
Enter Apothecary. Ap.
Who calls so loud ? Rom. Come hither, man.--I see, that thou art
poor; Hold, there is forty ducats : let me have A dram of poison ; such soon-speeding geera As will disperse itself through all the veins, That the life-weary taker may fall dead; And that the trunk may be discharg'd of breath (1) Herbs.
As violently, as hasty powder fir'd
Ap. Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's law Is death, to any he that utters them.
Rom. Art thou so bare, and full of wretchedness,
Ap. My poverty, but not my will, consents.
pay thy poverty, and not thy will.
souls, Doing more murders in this loathsome world, Than these poor compounds that thou may'st not
Enter Friar Laurence.
John. Going to find a barefoot brother out,