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Jul. Oh, think'st 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 Heaven ! I have an ill-divining soul: Methinks I see thee, now thou’rt parting from me, As one, dead in the bottom of a tomb ! Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale.

Rom. And trust me, love, in mine eye so do you ; Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu ! Adieu!



JULIET's Chamber.


Lady C. Ho, daughter, are you up?


Jul. Who is't that calls ? is it my lady mother?
What unaccustom’d cause procures her hither?

Lady C. Why, how now, Juliet ?
Jul. Madam, I am not well.
Lady C. Evermore weeping for your cousin's

death; What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears?

Jul. Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss. Lady C. I come to bring thee joyful tidings, girl. Jul. And joy comes well, in such a needful time. What are they, I beseech your ladyship? Lady C. Marry, my child, early next Thursday


And see,

The gallant, young, and noble gentleman,
The County Paris, at St. Peter's church,
Shall happily make thee a joyful bride.

Jul. I wonder at this haste, that I must wed,
Ere he, that must be husband, comes to woo.
I pray you, tell my lord and father, madam,
I cannot marry yet.
Lady C. Here comes your father; tell him so your-

how he will take it at


hands. Enter CAPULET and Nurse. Cap. How now ? a conduit, girl? what, still in

tears? Evermore showering? Why, how now, wife? Have


delivered to her our decree? Lady C. 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,

wife. How, will she none? doth she not give us thanks? Is she not proud ? doth she not count her blest, (Unworthy as she is) that we have wrought So worthy gentleman to be her bridegroom?

Jul. Proud can I never be of what I hate,
But thankful even for hate, that is meant love.

Cap. Thank me no thankings,
But settle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next,

with Paris to St. Peter's church, Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither.

Jul. Good father, I beseech you on my knees,
Hear me with patience but to speak a word.
Cap. Hang thee, young baggage, disobedient

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.

But now,

Wife, we scarce thought us blest,
That Heav'n had sent us but this only child,


see, this one is one too much, And that we have a curse in having her: Out on her, hilding !

Nurse. Heaven bless herYou 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. Peace! you mumbling fool;
Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl,
For here we need it not.

Lady C. You are too hot.
Cap. Good wife! it makes me mad-Day, night,

late, early;
At home, abroad; alone, in company;
Waking or sleeping; still my care hath been
To have her match'd; and having now provided
A gentleman of noble parentage,
Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly allied :
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-look to't, think on't,
I do not use to jest — Thursday is near :
If you be mine, I'll give you to my friend;

be not, hang, beg, starve, die i’the streets ; For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee. [Exit.

Jul. Is there no pity sitting in the clouds,
That sees into the bottom of my grief?
O, sweet my mother, cast me not away!
Delay this marriage for a month, a week;
Or, if you do not, make the bridal bed
In that dim monument where Tibalt lies.

Lady C. Talk not to me; for I'll not speak a word: Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee. [Erit. Jul. ( Heaven! 0 Nurse, how shall this be pre

Nurse. Rise; 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, I think it best,
You marry'd with the Count.

Jul. Speakest thou from thy heart?

Nurse. And from my soul, too;
Or else, beshrew them both.

Jul. Amen, amen.
Nurse. To what?
Jul. Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous

Go in, and tell my lady, I am gone,
Having displeas'd my father, to Lawrence' cell,
To make confession, and to be absolv’d.
Nurse. Marry, I will; and this is wisely done.

Jul. Oh, most wicked fiend!
Is it more sin, to wish me thus forsworn,
Or to dispraise my lord, with that same tongue,
Which she 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.



The Monastery.


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Fri. On Thursday, sir! the time is very short.

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 this course; I like it not.

Par. Immoderately she weeps for Tibalt'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, hastes our marriage, To stop the inundation of her tears. Now do you know the reason of this haste. Fri. I would I knew not why it should be slow'd.

[Aside. Look, sir, here comes the lady, tow'rds my

cell. Enter JULIET. Par. Happily met, 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. Par. Come you to make confession to this father? Jul. To answer that, were to confess to you.

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