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Come death, and welcome: Juliet wills it so.
Jul. It is, it is; hie hence, be gone, away:
now I would they had chang'd voices too!
Rom. More light and light?-More dark and dark
Enter Nurfe. Nurje. Madam, . Jul. Nurse?
Nurse. Your lady mother's coming to your chamber : The day is broke, be wary, look about. [Exit Nurse.
Ful. Then, window, let day in, and let life out.
Rom. Farewel: I will omit no opportunity, That may convey my greetings, love, to thee.
Jul. O think’lt 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 God! I have an ill-divining foul.
Rom. And trust me, love, in mine eye fo do you:
Jul. Oh fortune, fortune, all men call thee fickle :If thou art fickle, what doft thou with him That is renown'd for faith? be fickle, fortune : For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long, But send him back.
Enter Lady Capulet.
La. Cap. Ho, daughter, are you up?
Jul. Who is't that calls ? is it my lady mother? What unaccustom'd cause procures her hither ?
La. Cap. Why, how now, Juliet? Jul. Madam, I am not well. La. Cap. Evermore weeping for your cousin's death? What, wilt thou wath him from his grave with tears ? An’if thou couldīt, thou couldft not make him live ; Therefore, have done. Some grief Mews much of love ; But much of grief fews still some want of wit.
Jul. Yet let me weep for fuch a feeling loss. La. Cap. So fall you feel the loss, but not the friend Which you do weep for.
Jul. Feeling so the loss, I cannot chuse but ever weep the friend. La. Cap. Well, girl, thou weep'ft not so much for
Jul. What villain, Madam?
Jul. Villain and he are many miles asunder.
La. Cap. That is, because the traitor lives.
La.Cap. We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not: Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua, Where that same banish'd runagate doth live, Shall give him such an unaccustom'd dram, That he shall foon keep Tybalt company.
And then, I hope, thou will be satisfy'd.
Jul. Indeed, I never shall be satisfied
La. Cap. Find thou the means, and I'll find such a man. But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl.
Jul. And joy comes well in such a needful time. What are they, I beseech your ladyship?
La. Cap. Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child: One, who, to put thee from thy heaviness, Hath forted out a sudden 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,
Jul. Now, by St. Peter's church, and Peter too,
La. Cap. Here comes your father, tell him fo yourself, And see, how he will take it at your hands.
Enter Capulet, and Nur;e.
Cap. When ihe sun sets, the air doth drizzle dew; But for the sun et of my brother's so.1
It rains downright.-
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 bleft, Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom?
Jul. 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
not ! And yet not proud !-- Why, mistress minion, you, Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds, But settle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next, To go
with Paris to Saint 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 beseech you on my knees, Hear me with patience, but to speak a word.
Cap. Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient 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 scarce thought us blest,
That God hath sent us but this only child ;
Nurse. God in heaven bless her!
Cap. And why, my lady wisdom ? hold your tongue, Good prudence, smátter with your gossips, go.
Nurse. I speak no treason-o, god-ye-good-den-
Cap. Peace, peace, you mumbling fool;
La. Cap. You are too hot.
-- I pray you, pardon me
shall not house with me;
Jul. Is there no pity fitting in the clouds,