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Nurse. 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 since the case so stands, as now it doth, I think it best, you married with the Count. Oh, he's a lovely gentleman ! Romeo's a difa-clout to him ; an eagle, Madam, Hath not so green, so quick, fo fair an eye As Paris hath. Beshrew my very heart, I think you happy in this second match, For it excels your first; or if it did not, Your first is dead; or 'twere as good he were, As living here, and you no use of him.
Jul. Speak'st thou from thy heart?
Nurfe. And from my soul too,
Jul. Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much;
Nurfe. Marry, I will; and this is wisely done. (Exit,
Jul. Ancient damnation ! O moft wicked fiend!
thousand times ? Go, counsellor,
SCENE, the MONASTERY,
Enter Friar Lawrence and Paris.
Par. My father Capulet will have it so,
Fri. You say, you do not know the lady's mind:
Par. Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death,
[ Afide. Look, Sir, here comes the lady tow'rds my cell.
Enter Juliet. Par. Welcome, my love, 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 ye, I am sure, that you love me.
Ful. If I do so, it will be of more price
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 spight. (port.
Par. Thou wrong'it it, more than tears, with that
Jul. That is no slander, Sir, which is but truth, And what I speak, I speak it to my face.
Par. Thy face is mine, and thou hast slander'd it. Ful. 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. My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now. My Lord, I must intreat the time alone.
Par. God shield, I should disturb devotion : Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouze you : Till then, adieu! and keep this holy kiss.
[Exit Paris, Jul Go, shut the door, and when thou hast done fo, Come weep with me, past hope, paft cure, paft help. .
Fri. O Juliet, I already know thy grief, It strains me past the compass of
my wits. I hear, you must, and nothing may prorogue it, On Thursday next be married to this Count.
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 feald, 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 extreams and me this bloody knife Shall play the umpire; arbitrating that, Which the commission of thy years and art Could to no issue of true honour bring:
Be not so long to speak; I long to die,
Frı. Hold, daughter, I do 'spy a kind of hope,
this shame, That cop'st with death himself, to 'scape from it: And if thou dar'ft, I'll give thee remedy.
Jul. O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris, From off the battlements of yonder tower: Or chain me to some steepy mountain's top, Where roaring bears and savage lions roam; Or fhut me nightly in a charnel house, O'er-cover'd quite with dead men's rattling bones, With reeky Manks, and yellow chapless skulls; Or bid me go into a new-made grave, And hide me with a dead man in his shroud ; [ble ;) (Things, that to hear them nam'd, have made me tremAnd I will do it without fear or doubt, To live an unstain’d wife to my sweet love.
Fri. Hold, then, go home, be merry, give consent To marry Paris; Wednesday is to-morrow; To-morrow night, look, that thou lie alone. (Let not thy nurse lie with thee in thy chamber :) Take thou this phial, being then in bed, And this distilled liquor drink thou off; When presently through all thy veins shall run A cold and drowsy humour, which shall seize Each vital spirit; for no pulse fhall keep His nat'ral progress, but furcease to beat. No warmth, no breath, shall testify thou liv'it; The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade To paly alhes; thy eyes' windows fall, Like death, when he shuts up the day of life; Each part, depriv'd of supple government, Shall stiff, and stark, and cold appear like death : And in this borrowed likeness of thrunk death
Thou shalt continue two and forty hours,
[Taking the phial.
Jul. Love, give me strength, and Itrength shall help Farewel, dear father!
SCENE changes to Capulet's House."
Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, Nurse, and two or three
hire me twenty cunning cooks. Serw. You shall have none ill, Sir, for I'll try if they can lick their fingers.
Cap. How canit thou try them fo?
Serv. Marry, Sir, 'tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers : therefore he, that cannot lick his fingers, ' goes not with me,
Cap. Go, be gone.