La. Cap. We will have Vengeance for it, fear thou

not.

Then weep no more. I'll fend to one in Mantua,
Where that fame banifh'd Runagate doth live,
Shall give him fuch an unaccustom'd Dram,
That he fhall foon keep Tybalt Company.
And then, I hope, thou wilt be fatisfy'd.
Jul. Indeed, I never fhall be fatisfied
With Romeo, till! behold him, dead-
Is my poor heart fo for a Kinfman vext?
Madam, if you could find out but a Man
To bear a poifon, I would temper it;
That Romeo fhould upon Receipt thereof
Soon fleep in Quiet. O, how
-O, how my heart abhors
To hear him nam'd,-and cannot come to him-
To wreak the Love I bore my Coufin,

Upon his body that hath flaughter'd him.

La. Cap. Find thou the Means, and I'll find fuch a Man.

But now I'll tell thee joyful Tidings, Girl.

ful. And joy comes well in fuch a needful time. What are they, I befeech your ladyship?

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 expect'ft not, nor I look'd not for.
Jul. Madam, in happy time, what day is this?
La. Cap. Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn,
The gallant, young and noble gentleman,
The County Paris, at St. Peter's church,
Shall happily make thee a joyful bride.

Jul. Now, by St. Peter's church, and Peter too
He shall not make me there a joyful bride..
I wonder at this hafte, that I must wed

Ere he, that must be hufband, comes to wooe.
I pray you, tell my Lord and father, Madam,
I will not marry yet: and when I do,
It fhall be Romeo, whom you know, I hate,
Rather than ParisThefe are news, indeed!
La. Cap. Here comes your father, tell him fo your
felf,

And fee, how he will take it at your hands.

Enter Capulet, and Nurse.

Cap. When the Sun fets, the Air doth drizzle
Dew;

But for the Sunfet of my Brother's Son
It rains downright.

How now? a conduit, girl? what, ftill in tears?
Evermore fhow'ring? in one little body

Thou counterfeit'ft a bark, a fea, a wind;
For till thy eyes, which I may call the fea,

Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is,
Sailing in this falt flood; the winds thy fighs,
Which, raging with thy tears, and they with them,
Without a fudden calm will overfet

Thy tempeft-toffed body-
-How now, wife ?
Have you deliver'd to her our decree?

La. Cap. Ay, Sir; but he will none, fhe gives
you thanks.

I would, the fool were married to her Grave!
Cap. Soft, take me with you, take me with

wife.

you,

How, will fhe none? Doth, fhe not give us thanks? Is he not proud, doth fhe not count her bleft, Unworthy as he is, that we have wrought

So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom?

Jul.

ful. Not 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 fettle your fine joints 'gainft Thursday next,
To go with Paris to St. Peter's church:
Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither.

Out, you green-fickness carrion! Out, you baggage!
You Tallow-face!

La. Cap Fy, fy, what, are you mad?

Jul. Good father, I befeech you on my knees,
Hear me with patience, but to fpeak a word.
Cap. Hang thee, young baggage! difobedient
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 fcarce thought us bleft,
That God hath fent us but this only child;
But now I fee this One is one too much,
And that we have a Curfe in having her;
Out on her, hilding!-

Nurse. God in heaven blefs 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 treafon-Ö, god-ye-good-den

May not one speak?

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

La. Cap. You are too hot.

Cap. It makes me mad day, night, hour, tide, work, play,

Alone, in company, ftill my care hath been,
To have her match'd; and having now provided
A gentleman of noble parentage,

Of fair demefns, youthful, and nobly-allied,
Stuff'd, as they fay, with honourable parts,
Proportion'd as one's thought would with 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 fhall not houfe with me;
Look to't, think on't, I do not use to jeft.
Thursday is near; lay hand on heart, advife;
If you be mine, I'll give you to my friend:

If

you be not, hang, beg, ftarve, die i' th' streets; For, by my foul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee, Nor what is mine fhall ever do thee good. Truft to't, bethink you, I'll not be forfworn. [Exit. Jul. Is there no pity fitting in the clouds, That fees into the bottom of my grief? O, sweet my mother, caft me not away, Delay this marriage for a month, a week; Or, if you do not, make the bridal bed In that dun 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!-0 Nurfe, how fhall this be pre

vented?

My Husband is on Earth; my Faith in Heav'n;
How fhall that Faith return again to Earth,
Unless that Hufband fend it me from Heav'n,
By leaving Earth ?Comfort me, counfel me.

Alack,

Alack, alack, that heav'n fhould practise ftratagems
Upon fo foft a fubject as myself!"

What fay'ft thou? haft thou not a word of Joy?
Some Comfort, Nurfe..

Nurfe. 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 fince the cafe fo ftands, as now it doth.
I think it beft, you married with the Count.
Oh, he's a lovely gentleman!

Romeo's a difh-clout to him; an eagle, Madam,
Hath not fo keen, fo quick, fo fair an eye
As Paris hath. Befhrew my very heart,
I think you happy in this fecond match,
For it excels your firft; or if it did not,
Your first is dead; or 'twere as good he were,
7 As living here, and you no ufe of him.
Jul. Speak'ft thou from thy heart?

Nurfe. And from my Soul too,

Or else befhrew them both.

Jul. 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: Jul. Ancient Damnation ! O most wicked Fiend! Is it more fin to wish me thus forfworn,

6-fo-keen,] Hanmer. In the other editions, fo green.

7 As living here,] Sir T. Han. mer reads, as living hence; that

is at a diftance, in banishment, but here may fignify, in this world.

Or