The gallant, young, and noble gentleman, Jul. Now, by Saint Peter's church, and Peter too, He shall not make me there a joyful bride. I wonder at this haste; that I must wed I will not marry yet; and, when I do, I swear, La. Cap. Here comes your father: tell him so yourself; And see how he will take it at your hands. Enter CAPULET and Nurse. Cap. When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle dew; But for the sunset of my brother's son, It rains downright. How now! a conduit, girl? what! still in tears ? For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea, Thy tempest-tossed body. - How now, wife! La. Cap. Ay, sir; but she will none, she gives you thanks. I would, the fool were married to her grave! Cap. Soft, take me with you, take me with you, How! will she none? doth she not give us thanks? Is she not proud? doth she not count her bless'd, 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. this? Proud, – and, I thank you, not; and, I thank you [And yet not proud; - mistress minion, you,] Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds, But fettle 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-sickness carrion! out, you baggage! You tallow face! La. Cap. Fie, fie! 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 bless'd, That God had sent us but this only child; And that we have a curse in having her. Nurse. God in Heaven bless her! You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so. Cap. And why, my lady wisdom? hold your tongue, Good prudence: smatter with your gossips; go. Nurse. I speak no treason. Cap. O, God ye good den. Peace, you mumbling fool! Nurse. May not one speak? Cap. Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl, For here we need it not. La. Cap. You are too hot. Cap. God's bread! it makes me mad. Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train’d, A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender, "I'll not wed," - "I cannot love," "I am too young," "I pray you, pardon me; But, an you will not wed, I'll pardon you; Graze where you will, you shall not house with me: Look to't, think on't, I do not use to jest. An you be not, hang, beg, starve, die i̇' th' streets, Trust to't, bethink you; I'll not be forsworn. [Exit. That sees into the bottom of my grief? Or, if you do not, make the bridal bed 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; comfort me, counsel me. Alack, alack! that Heaven should practise stratagems What say'st thou hast thou not a word of joy? Nurse. Faith, here 'tis. Romeo Is banished; and all the world to nothing, Romeo's a dishclout to him: an eagle, madam, Jul. Speakest thou from thy heart? Or else beshrew them both. Jul. Nurse. And from my soul too; Amen! What? Jul. Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much. Go in; and tell my lady I am gone, Having displeas'd my father, to Laurence' cell, Nurse. Marry, I will; and this is wisely done. Jul. Ancient damnation! [Exit. 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 IV. SCENE I. — Friar LAURENCE's Cell. Enter Friar LAURENCE and PARIS. FRIAR. N Thursday, sir? the time is very short. ΟΝ Par. My father Capulet will have it so; And I am nothing slow, to slack his haste. Fri. 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. |