A gentleman of noble parentage, Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd, That sees into the bottom of my grief? 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. [Exit. Jul. O God!—O 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. Lgems What say'st thou? hast thou not a word of joy? Some comfort, nurse. Nurse. Faith, here it is. Romeo is banish'd; and all the world to nothing, Then, since the case so stands as now it doth, Romeo's a dishclout to him: an eagle, madam, Jul. Speakest thou from thy heart? An fro my sou too Or e se eshr w hem oth. Go in; and tell my lady I am gone, Having displeased my father, to Laurence' 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 forsworn, Or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue If all else fail, myself have power to die. [Exit. ACT THE FOURTH. SCENE I. Friar Laurence's cell. Enter Friar Laurence and Paris. Fri. L. 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. L. 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, Now do you know the reason of this haste. Fri. L. [Aside] I would I knew not why it should be slow'd. Look, sir, here comes the lady towards 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. Fri. L. That's a certain text. Par. Come you to make confession to this father? Jul. I will confess to you that I love him. Being spoke behind your back, than to your face. Par. Poor soul, thy face is much abused 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, which 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. Are you at leisure, holy father, now; Or shall I come to you at evening mass? Fri. L. My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now. My lord, we must entreat the time alone. Par. God shield I should disturb devotion ! Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse ye : Till then, adieu; and keep this holy kiss. [Exit. Jul. O, shut the door! and when thou hast done so, Come weep with me; past hope, past cure, past help! Fri. L. Ah, Juliet, I already know thy grief; It strains me past the compass of my wits: I hear thou must, and nothing may 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, God join'd my heart and Romeo's, thou our hands; |