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! La. Cap. Fie, fie! what, are you mad? 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 bless'd, 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, Good prudence; smatter with your gossips, go. Nurse. I speak no treason. O, God ye good den! Peace, you mumbling fool! You are too hot. Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl, La. Cap. Cap. God's bread! it makes me mad. Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play, Alone, in company, still my care hath been Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd, [Exit. 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 prevented? My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven; What say'st thou hast thou not a word of joy? Nurse. 'Faith, here 't is Romeo Romeo 's a dishclout to him; an eagle, madamı, Jul. Speakest thou from thy heart? Or else beshrew them both. From my soul too; Jul. Nurse. Amen! 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 sin-to wish me thus forsworn, Or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue [Exit. ACT IV. SCENE I-Friar Laurence's Cell. Enter Friar LAURENCE and PARIS. Fri. On Thursday, sir? the time is very short. Fri. You say, you do not know the lady's mind; 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. Look, sir, here comes the lady towards my cell. Enter JULIET. [Aside. Par. Happily met, my lady, and my wife! 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, Being spoke behind your back, than to your face. 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.— Are you at leisure, holy father, now; Or shall I come to you at evening mass? 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. It strains me past the compass of my wits: God join'd my heart and Romeo's, thou our hands; |