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Jul. Not proud, you have; but thankful, that you
have: Proud can I never be of what I hate; But thankful even for hate, that is meant love.
Cap. How now! how now, chop-logic! What is this? Proud,-and, I thank you,—and, I thank you not ;Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds, But settle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next, To go with Paris to St. Peter's church, Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither. Out, you green-sickness carrion! out, you baggage! You tallow face!
La. Cap. Fie, fie! what, are you mad?
Jul. Good father, Í beseech you on my knees, Hear me with patience but to speak a word.
Cap. Hang thee, young baggage ! disobedient wretch! I tell thee what,-get thee to church o' Thursday, Or never after look me in the face: Speak not, reply not, do not answer me; My fingers itch.-Wife, we scarce thought us blessid, That God had lent us but this only child; But now I see this one is one too much, And that we have a curse in having her; Out on her, hilding! Nurse.
God in heaven bless her ! — You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so.
Cap. And why, my lady wisdom ? hold your tongue,
O, God ye good den!
Peace, you mumbling fool!
You are too hot. Cap. God's bread! it makes me mad. Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play,
Alone, in company, still my care hath been
Jul. Is there no pity sitting in the clouds,
La. Cap. Talk not to me, for I 'll not speak a word; Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee. [Exit. Jul. O God !-0 nurse! how shall this be pre
vented ? My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven; How shall that faith return again to earth, Unless that husband send it me from heaven By leaving earth ?-comfort me, counsel me.Alack, alack, that heaven should practise stratagems Upon so soft a subject as myself!“ What say'st thou hast thou not a word of joy? Some comfort, nurse.
'Faith, here 't-is : Romeo
Jul. Speakest thou from thy heart ?
From my soul too;
What? Jul. Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much. Go in; and tell my lady I am gone, Having displeas'd my father, to Laurence' cell, To make confession, and to be absolv'd.
Nurse. Marry, I will; and this is wisely done. [Exit.
Jul. Ancient damnation! O most wicked fiend ! Is it more sinto wish me thus forsworn, Or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue Which she hath prais'd him with above compare So many thousand times ?-Go, counsellor; Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twain.I 'll to the friar, to know his remedy; If all else fail, myself have power to die. [Excit.
SCENE I.-Friar Laurence's Cell.
Enter Friar LAURENCE and Paris.
Par. My father Capulet will have it so :
Fri. You say, you do not know the lady's mind; Uneven is the course, I like it not.
Par. Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death, And therefore have I little talk'd of love: For Venus smiles not in a house of tears. Now, sir, her father counts it dangerous, That she doth give her sorrow so much sway; And in his wisdom, hastes our marriage, To stop the inundation of her tears; Which, too much minded by herself alone, May be put from her by society : Now do you know the reason of this haste. Fri. I would I knew not why it should be slow'd.
[Aside. Look, sir, here comes the lady towards my cell.
Enter JULIET. Par. Happily met, my lady, and my wife! Jul. That may be, sir, when I may be a wife. Par. That may be, must be, love, on Thursday next. Jul. What must be shall be. Fri.
That 's a certain text. Par. Come you to make confession to this father? Jul. To answer that, I should confess to you. Par. Do not deny to him, that you love me. Jul. I will confess to you, that I love him.
Par. So will you, I am sure, that you love me.
Jul. If I do so, it will be of more price,
Par. Poor soul, thy face is much abus'd with tears.
Jul. The tears have got small victory by that ; For it was bad enough, before their spite. Par. Thou wrong'st it, more than tears, with that
report. Jul. That is no slander, sir, which is a truth; And what I spake, I spake it to my face.
Par. Thy face is mine, and thou hast slander'd it.
Jul. It may be so, for it is not mine own.-
Fri. My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now :My lord, we must entreat the time alone.
Par. God shield, I should disturb devotion ! Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse you : Till then, adieu! and keep this holy kiss. [Ex. Paris.
Jul. O, shut the door! and when thou hast done so, Come weep with me: Past hope, past care, past help!
Fri. O Juliet, I already know thy grief;
Jul. Tell me not, friar, that thou hear’st of this,