_Rom._ You’d better clear out, old Capulet, now, There hardly is room here for you; Disturb not the rest of a poisoned young pair, But clear out instanter, now, do!
_Jul._ { Come do, now do, dear father, sweet father, go home! _Rom._ { Will you, will you, old buffer, old buffer, go home?
_Cap._ Now, do hear the words of this pair, Which his fingers[2] repeat as they roam. I’ll be blessed if such nonsense I’ll stand, any way, No, looneys, I will not go home.
_Jul._ { Come father, dear father, go home. _Rom._ { Old buffer, old buffer, go home.
_Cap._ Well, here’s a pretty kettle of fish, I’ll swear. Juliet Capulet, what are you doing there?
_Jul._ (_Sitting up._) I’m poisoned, waiting here for Romeo.
_Rom._ (_Sitting up._) Well, here I am: I guess we’d better go.
_Song, “Romeo and Juliet.” Air, “Billy Taylor.”_
_Rom._ Now, Juliet, that we’re free from poison, We will quickly wedded be. The loveliest maid man ever set his eyes on I’ll marry in style, quite gorgeously. Tiddy, iddy, iddy, iddy, ol, lol, li, do.
_Jul._ Tiddy, iddy, iddy, iddy, ol, lol, la.
_Rom._ Tiddy, iddy, iddy, iddy, ol, lol, li, do.
_Tombs._ Tiddy, iddy, iddy, iddy, ol, lol, la.
_Jul._ O Romeo! though you’re my deary, Prithee, listen unto me. When I go to get my wardrobe, I shall feel quite scary If it’s under lock and key.
_Cap._ Humbug! Do you two young ones ’spose I’ll have this billing under my very nose? Vile Montague, begone, or you shall sweat! I’m on my native heath, my name is Capulet.
_Jul._ Give me my Romeo, or I shall die: I’ll cut him up in little stars--
_Cap._ No, no, my child, you’ll cut up no such capers: Do you want to figure in the Boston papers? Go home and sew, and so your morals mend: This fool I’ll straight about his business send. If you two marry--why, then, I’m a noodle, Who dare dispute me--
_Song. Tomb opens, and MERCUTIO appears as Yankee Doodle. (Allegorical dress of America.)_
_Mer._ Only Yankee Doodle! Old man, within my home across the water, I’ve had my eye upon your handsome daughter, And sighed to think that two fond lovers here Should find a home within a tomb so drear. And so I’ve opened it to have it aired: Really, old gent, you should have it repaired. Being on a yacht race in “The Henrietta,” To give you a passing call, I thought I’d better. I’m of a race that likes to see fair play: My fair one, can I serve you any way?