Page 3214 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1
P. 3214
As one dead in the bottom of a tomb.
Either my eyesight fails, or thou look’st pale.
ROMEO
And trust me, love, in my eye so do you.
Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu.
Exit.
JULIET
O Fortune, Fortune! All men call thee fickle; [60]
If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him
That is renown’d for faith? Be fickle, Fortune,
For then I hope thou wilt not keep him long,
But send him back.
Enter Lady Capulet.
LADY CAPULET
Ho, daughter, are you up?
JULIET
Who is’t that calls? It is my lady mother. [65]
Is she not down so late, or up so early?
What unaccustom’d cause procures her hither?
She goes down from the window.
LADY CAPULET
Why, how now Juliet?
Enter Juliet.
JULIET
Madam, I am not well.
LADY CAPULET
Evermore weeping for your cousin’s death?
What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears? [70]
And if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live.
Therefore have done: some grief shows much of love,
But much of grief shows still some want of wit.
