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Evermore show'ring? in one little body
Thou counterfeit'st a bark, a sea, a wind;
For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea,
Do ebb and flow with tears ; the bark thy body is,
Sailing in this salt food: the winds thy sighs,
Which, raging with thy tears, and they with them,
Without a sudden calm, will overset
Thy tempest-toffed body -How now, wife?
Have you deliver'd to her our decree?
La. Cap. Ay, Sir ; but she will none, she gives you

thanks :
I would, the fool were married to her Grave!

Cap. Soft, take me with you, take me with you, wife. How, will she none? doth she not give us thanks ? Is she not proud, doth she not count her blest, Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom? Jul. Nor 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 Logick? What is

This? Proud! and I thank you! and I thank you not! And yet not proud! - Why, Mistress Minion, You, Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds, But settle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next, To go with Paris to Saint 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, 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 bleft, That God had sent us but this only child; Vo4. VII. N


Lut 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 fo.

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-denMay not one speak?

Cap. Peace, peace, you mumbling fool;
Utter your gravity o’er a gossip's bowl,
For here we need it not,

La. Cap. You are too hot.
Cap. God's bread ! it makes me mad : day, night,

sate, early,
At home, abroad, alone, in company,
Waking, or sleeping, still my care hath been
To have her match'd; and having now provided
A gentleman of noble parentage,
Of fair demeans, youthful, and nobly allied,
Stuff'd, as they say, with honourable parts,
Proportion'd as one's thought would wish a man:
And then to have a wretched puling fool,
A whining mammet, in her fortune's Tender,
To answer, I'll not wed, I cannot love,
I am too young, I pray you, pardon me
But, if you will not wed, I'll pardon you:
Graze where you will, you shall not house with me;
Look to't, think on't, I do not use to jeft.
Thursday is near; lay hand on heart, advise ;
If you be mine, I'll give you to my friend:

you be not, hang, beg, ftarve, die i'ch' streets ;
For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee,
Nor what is mine shall ever do thee good :
Trust to't, bethink you, I'll not be forsworn. (Exit.

Jul. Is there no pity sitting in the clouds,
That fees into the bottom of my grief?
o, sweet my mother, cast me not away,
Delay this marriage for a month, a week ;
Or, if you do not, make the bridal bed


In that dim monument where Tybali lies.

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! O Nurfe, how shall this be prevented?
My Husband is on Earth, my Faith in Heav'n;
How shall that Faith return again to Earth,
Unless that Husband send it me from Heav'n,
By leaving Earth? Comfort me, counfel me.
Alack, alack, that heav'n should practise stratagems
Upon so soft a subject as my self !
What say'st thou ? ha'st thou not a word of Joy?
Some Comfort, Nurse.

Nurse. Faith, here it is :
Romeo is banish'd; all the world to nothing,
That he dares ne'er come back to challenge you:
Or if he do, it needs must be by stealth.
Then since the case so stands, as now it doth,
I think it best, you married with the Count.
Oh, he's a lovely gentleman !
Romeo's a dish-clout to him ; an eagle, Madam,
Hath not fo green, so quick, so fair an eye
As Paris hath. Beshrew my very heart,
I think you happy in this second match,
For it excels your first; or if it did not,
Your firft is dead ; or 'cwere as good he were,
As living here, and you no use of him.

Jul. Speakest thou from thy heart?

Nurse. And from my soul too,
Or else beshrew them both.

Jul. Amen.
Nurse. What?

Jul. Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much;
Go in, and tell my lady I am gone,
Having displeas'd my father, to Lawrence cell,
To make confession, and to be absolved.

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 forfworn,
Or to difpraise my lord with that same tongue
Which the hath prais'd him with above compare,

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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, my felf have power to die.




SCENE, the Monastery.

Enter Friar Lawrence and Paris.


N Thursday, Sir! the time is very short.

Par. My father Capulet will have it so, And I am nothing flow to sack his haste. Fri. You say, you do not know the lady's

Uneven is this 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 should give her

sorrow so much sway ;
And, in his wisdom, haftes our marriage,
To stop the inundation of her tears ;
Which, too much minded by her self alone,
May be put from her by society.
Now do you know the reason of this hafte?
Fri. I would, I knew not why it should be slow'd.

[Aside. Look, Sir, here comes the lady tow'rds my

cell. Enter Juliet. Par. Welcome, my love, my lady and my wife!

Jul. .

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Jul. That may be, Sir, when I

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, were to 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 ye, 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 spight.
Par. Thou wrongʻit it, more than tears, with that

Jul. That is no Nander, Sir, which is but truth,
And what I speak, I speak 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, I must intreat the time alone.

Par. God shield, I should disturb devotion : Juliet, on Thursday early will I rowze you: Till then, adieu ! and keep this holy kiss.

[Exit Paris. Jul. Go, shut the door, and when thou hast done so, Come weep with me, past hope, past cure, past help.

Fri. O Juliet, I already know thy grief,
It strains me past the Compass of my

I hear, you must, and nothing may prorogue it,
On Thursday next be married to this Count.

Jul. Tell me not, Friar, that thou hear'st of this,
Unless thou tell me how I may prevent it.
If in thy wisdom thou canst give no help,
Do thou but call my resolution wise,
And with this knife I'll help it presently.
God join'd my heart and - Romeo's; thou, our hands;
N 3



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