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,
Or else beshrew them both.

Jul. Amen.
Nurf. What?

Jul. Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much;
Go in, and tell my lady I am gone,
Having displeas'd my father, to Lawrence' cell,
To make confeffion, and to be absolved.

Nurfe. Marry, I will; and this is wisely done. (Exit,

Jul. Ancient damnation ! O moft wicked fiend!
Is it more fin to wish me thus forsworn,
Or to dispraise my Lord with that same tongue
Which the hath prais’d him with above compare,
So
many

thousand times ? Go, counsellor,
Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twain :
I'll to the Friar, to know his remedy:
If all else fail, myself have power to die. (Exit.

ACT

IV.

SCENE, the MONASTERY,

Enter Friar Lawrence and Paris.

ON

FRIAR.
N Thursday, Sir! the time is very short.

Par. My father Capulet will have it so,
And I am nothing now to sack his haste.

Fri. You say, you do not know the lady's mind:
Uneven is this 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 should give her sorrow so much sway;
And, in his wisdom, haftes our marriage,
To stop the inundation of her tears ;
Which, too much minded by herself alone,
May be put from her by society.
Now do you know the reason of this haste ?
Fri. I would, I knew not why it should be now'd.

[ 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.

Julo

re

Ful. If I do so, it will be of more price
Being spoke behind your back, than to your face.

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,
If what thou 1peak’It speak not of remedy.

Frı. Hold, daughter, I do 'spy a kind of hope,
Which craves as desperate an execution,
As that is defp'rate which we would prevent.
If, rather than to marry County Paris,
Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself,
Then it is likely, thou wilt undertake
A thing like death to chide

away

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

Thou shalt continue two and forty hours,
And then awake, as from a pleasant sleep.
Now when the bridegroom in the morning comes
To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead::
Then, as the manner of our country is,
In thy best robes uncover'd on the bier,
Be borne to burial in thy kindred's grave:
Thou shalt be borne to that saine ancient vault,
Where all the kindred of the Capule's lie
In the mean time, against thou shalt awake,
Shall Rumeo by my letters know our drift,
And hither Mall he come; and he and I
Will watch thy waking, and that very night
Shall Romen bear thee hence to Mantua;
And this shall free thee from this present shame, '
If no unconftant toy, nor womanish fear,
Abate thy valour in the acting it!
Jul. Give me, oh give me, tell me not of fear.

[Taking the phial.
Fri. Hold, get you gone, be strong and prosperous
In this resolve ; I'll send a Friar with speed
To Mantua, with my letters to thy lord. [afford.

Jul. Love, give me strength, and Itrength shall help Farewel, dear father!

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to Capulet's House."

Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, Nurse, and two or three

Servants.

O
Sirrahgo

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.
We shall be much unfurnish'd for this time :
D 3

What,