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God in heaven bless her! You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so,
Cap. Andwhy, my lady wisdom? hold yourtongue, Good prudence; smatter with your gossips, go.
Nurse. I speak no treason.
0, God ye good den! Nurse. May not one speak ? Сар.
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,
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
’Faith, here 'tis : Romco
Jul. Speakest thou from thy heart?
1 I think it best you married with the county.) The character of the Nurse exhibits a just picture of those whose actions have no principles for their foundation. She has been unfaithful to the trust reposed in her by Capulet, and is ready to embrace any expedient that offers, to avert the consequences of her first infidelity. STEEVENS.
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,
2 And I am nothing slow, &c.] His haste shall not be abated by
And therefore have I little talk'd of love;
[Aside. Look, sir, here comes the lady towards my cell.
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, 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 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, 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.
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, Come weep with me: Past hope, past cure, past help!
Fri. Ah, Juliet, I already know thy grief; It strains me past the compass of my wits : I hear thou must, and nothing must prorogue it, On Thursday next be married to this county.
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; And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo seald, Shall be the label to another deed, Or my true heart with treacherous revolt Turn to another, this shall slay them both : Therefore, out of thy long-experienc'd time, Give me some present counsel ; or, behold, 'Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife
3 Or shall I come to you at evening mass ?] Juliet means vespers.
There is no such thing as evening mass, 4 Shall be the label to another deed,] The seals of deeds in our author's time were not impressed on the parchment itself
on which the deed was written, but were appended on distinct slips or labels affixed to the deed,