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La.Cap. Fye, fye! what are you mad?
Jul. Good father, I 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 bless'd, That God had sent us but this only child; But now see this one is one too much, And that we have a curse in having her: Out on her, hilding !3 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.
0, God ye good den! Nurse. May not one speak? Cap.
Peace, you mumbling fool! Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's howl, For here we need it not. La.Car.
You are too hot.
3 Base woman,
Stuff'd (as they say,) with honourable parts,
young, - I pray you, pardon me ;-
shall not house with me; Look to't, think on't, I do not use to jest. Thursday is near, lay hand on heart, advise : An
you be mine, I'll give you to my friend ; An
you be not, hang, beg, starve, die i’the streets,
Jul. Is there no pity sitting in the clouds,
do not, make the bridal bed In that dim monument where Tybalt lies.
La.Cap. Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word; Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee. [Erit. 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 'tis : Romeo
Jul. Speakest thou from thy heart?
From my soul too;
To 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 ;
SCENE I. Friar Laurence's Cell.
Enter Friar LAURENCE and PARIS.
Fri. On Thursday, sir? the time is very short, .
Par. My father Capulet will have it so; And I am nothing slow, to slack his haste.
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..
Par. Happily met, my lady, and my wife !
Par. That may be, must be, love, on Thursday next.
That's a certain text.
you 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, that 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,
My lord, we must entreat the time alone.
Par. God shield, I should disturb devotion !-
[Exit PARIS. Jul. O, shut the door! and when thou hast done so,
with Past hope, past cure, past help! Fri. Ah, Juliet, I already know thy grief; It strains me past the compass of my