Ha! let me see her: out, alas! she's cold:
Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff;
Life and these lips
have long been separated:
Death lies on her like an untimely frost
Upon the sweetest flower of all the
O lamentable day!
O woful time!
Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail,
Ties up my tongue, and will not let me speak.
Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and PARIS, with Musicians
Come, is the bride ready to go to church?
Ready to go, but never to return.
O son! the night before thy wedding-day
Hath Death lain with thy wife.
There she lies,
Flower as she was, deflowered by him.
Death is my son-in-law, Death is my heir;
he hath wedded: I will die,
And leave him all; life, living, all is Death's.
Have I thought long to see this morning's face,
And doth it give me such a sight as this?
Accursed, unhappy, wretched, hateful day!
Most miserable hour that e'er time saw
In lasting labour of his
But one, poor one, one poor and loving child,
But one thing to rejoice and solace in,
death hath catch'd it from my sight!
O woe! O woful, woful, woful day!
Most lamentable day, most woful day,
That ever, ever, I did yet behold!
day! O day! O day! O hateful day!
Never was seen so black a day as this:
O woful day, O woful day!
Beguiled, divorced, wronged, spited, slain!
Most detestable death, by thee beguil'd,
By cruel cruel thee
O love! O life! not life, but love in death!
Despised, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd!
Uncomfortable time, why camest thou now
To murder, murder
O child! O child! my soul, and not my child!
Dead art thou! Alack! my child is dead;
with my child my joys are buried.
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