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Jul. Oh, think'st thou we shall ever meet again?
Rom. I doubt it not, and all these woes shall serve For sweet discourses, in our time to come.
Jul. O Heaven ! I have an ill-divining soul: Methinks I see thee, now thou’rt parting from me, As one, dead in the bottom of a tomb ! Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale.
Rom. And trust me, love, in mine eye so do you ; Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu ! Adieu!
Enter LADY CAPULET.
Lady C. Ho, daughter, are you up?
Jul. Who is't that calls ? is it my lady mother?
Lady C. Why, how now, Juliet ?
death; What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears?
Jul. Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss. Lady C. I come to bring thee joyful tidings, girl. Jul. And joy comes well, in such a needful time. What are they, I beseech your ladyship? Lady C. Marry, my child, early next Thursday
The gallant, young, and noble gentleman,
Jul. I wonder at this haste, that I must wed,
hands. Enter CAPULET and Nurse. Cap. How now ? a conduit, girl? what, still in
tears? Evermore showering? Why, how now, wife? Have
delivered to her our decree? Lady C. 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 gentleman to be her bridegroom?
Jul. Proud can I never be of what I hate,
Cap. Thank me no thankings,
with Paris to St. Peter's church, Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither.
Jul. Good father, I beseech you on my knees,
Wife, we scarce thought us blest,
see, this one is one too much, And that we have a curse in having her: Out on her, hilding !
Nurse. Heaven bless herYou 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.
Cap. Peace! you mumbling fool;
Lady C. You are too hot.
be not, hang, beg, starve, die i’the streets ; For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee. [Exit.
Jul. Is there no pity sitting in the clouds,
Lady C. Talk not to me; for I'll not speak a word: Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee. [Erit. Jul. O Heaven! 0 Nurse, how shall this be pre
Jul. Speakest thou from thy heart?
Nurse. And from my soul, too;
Jul. Amen, amen.
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. [Exit.
ACT THE FOURTH.
Enter FRIAR LAWRENCE 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 this course; I like it not.
Par. Immoderately she weeps for Tibalt'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, hastes our marriage, To stop the inundation of her tears. 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, tow'rds 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. Par. Come you to make confession to this father? Jul. To answer that, were to confess to you.