Enter Lady Capulet. La. Cap. Ho, daughter, are you up? Jul. Who is't that calls? is it my lady mother? Jul. Madam, I'm not well. La. Cap. Evermore weeping for your coufin's death? What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears? ful. Yet let me weep for fuch a feeling lofs. La. Cap. I come to bring thee joyful tidings, girl. Jul. And joy comes well in fuch a needful time. What are they, I beseech your ladyfhip? La. Cap. Well, well, thou haft a careful father, child; One who to put thee from thy heaviness, Hath forted out a fudden day of joy, That thou expec'ft not, nor I look'd not for. Jul. Madam, in happy time, what day is this? La. Cap. Marry, my child, early next Thurfday morn, The gallant, young and noble gentleman, The County Paris, at St. Peter's church, Shall happily make thee a joyful bride. Jul. I wonder at this hafte, that I must wed Ere he that must be husband comes to woo. 1 pray you tell my lord and father, madam, I cannot marry yet. La. Cap. Here comes your father, tell him so And fee how he will take it at your hands. Enter Capulet and Nurfe. you rfelf, Cap. How now? a conduit, girl? what, ftill in tears; Evermore showering? Why how now, wife? Have you deliver'd to her our decree? La Cap. Ay,Sir; but she will none, fhe gives you thanks: I would the fool were married to her grave. you, wife, Cap. Soft, take me with you, take me with Ful Jul. Proud can I never be of what I hate, But fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next, Jul. Good father, I beseech you on my knees, Cap. Hang thee, young baggage, disobedient wretch, Speak not, reply not, do not anfwer me, That God had fent us but this only child, Nurfe. Heaven bless her: You are to blame, my lord, to rate her fo. Cap. And why, my lady wisdom? hold your tongue, Good prudence, fmatter with your goffips, go. Nurfe. I fpeak no treason. Cap. Peace; you mumbling fool; Utter your gravity o'er a gofiip's bowl, La. Cap. You are too hot. Cap.Good wife,it makes me mad; day,night,late, early, At home, abroad; alone, in company, Waking or fleeping; ftill my care hath been To have her match'd; and having now provided Of fair demeans; youthful and nobly allied, If If you be mine, I'll give you to my friends: Jul. Is there no pity fitting in the clouds, [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 heav'n! O nurse, how fhall this be prevented? Alack, alack, that heav'n fhould practise ftratagems Upon fo foft a fubject as myself. Nurfe. Rife, faith here it is: Romeo is banish'd; all the world to nothing, Or if he do, it needs must be by stealth: Then fince the cafe fo ftands, I think it beft You married with the count. Jul. Speakeft thou from thy heart? Nurfe. And from my foul too, Or elfe befhrew them both. Jul, Amen, amen. Nurfe. What? Jul. Well, thou haft comforted me marvellous much; Go in, and tell my lady I am gone, Having difpleas'd my father, to Lawrence' cell, To make confeffion, and to be abfolv'd. Nurfe. Marry, I will, and this is wifely done. [Exit. Jal. Ancient damnation! Oh moft wicked fiend! Is it more fin to with me thus forsworn, Or to difpraise my lord with that fame tongue C 2 [Exit. ACT ACTIV. ON SCENE I. The MONASTERY. Enter Friar Lawrence and Paris. FRIAR. N Thurfday, Sir! the time is very short. Par. Immoderately the weeps for Tibalt's death, For Venus fmiles not in a houfe of tears. Fri. I would I knew not why it should be flow'd. Enter Juliet. Par. Welcome my love, my lady, and my wife. Par. Come you to make confeffion to this father? Are you at leifure, holy father, now, Or fhall I come to you at evening mass ? Fri. My leifure ferves me, penfive daughter, now. My lord, I muft intreat the time alone. Par, Heav'n fhield, I should disturb devotion: Juliet, Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouze you: Jul. Tell me not, Friar, that thou know'ft my grief, Unlefs thou tell me, how I may prevent it, If in thy wisdom thou canft give no help, Heav'n join'd my heart and Romeo's; thou our hands, Or my true heart with treacherous revolt Speak now, be brief; for I defire to dig, Fri. Hold, daughter; I do efpy a kind of hope, As that is defperate which we would prevent. A thing like death to free thee from this marriage, ful O bid me leap, rather than marry Paris, And hide me with a dead man in his fhroud, Things that to hear them nam'd, have made me tremble; And I will do it without fear or doubt, |