That he fhall foon keep Tybalt Company:
And then, I hope thou will be fatisfy'd.
Jul. Indeed, I never fhall be fatisfied
With Romeo, till I behold him, dead-
Is my poor heart fo for a Kinfman vext?
Madam, if you could find out but a Man
To bear a poifon, I would temper it;
That Romeo fhould upon Receipt thereof
Soon fleep in Quiet. -O, how my heart abhors
To hear him nam'd,-and cannot come to him-
To wreak the Love I bore my flaughter'd Coufin,
Upon his body that hath flaughter'd him.
La. Cap. Find thou the Means, and I'll find fuch a
Man.
But now I'll tell thee joyful Tidings, Girl.
Jul. And joy comes well in fuch a needful time. What are they, I beseech your ladyship?
La. Cap. Well, well, thou haft a careful father, child, One, who, to put thee from thy heaviness, Hath forted out a fudden day of joy, That thou expect'ft not, nor I look'd not for.
Jul. Madam, (5) in happy time, what day is this? La. Cap Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn, The gallant, young, and noble gentleman, The County Paris, at St. Peter's church,, Shall happily make thee a joyful bride.
Jul. Now, by St. Peter's church, and Peter too,,
He shall not make me there a joyful bride,
I wonder at this hafte, that I must wed
Ere he, that must be husband, comes to wooe.
I pray you, tell my Lord and father, Madam,
I will not marry yet: and when I do,
It fhall be Romeo, whom you know I hate,
Rather than Paris.- These are news, indeed!
La. Cap. Here comes your father, tell him so your-
felf, And fee, how he will take it at
hands.
him a Dram which he is not not used to. flake not, obferved, that in old books un ful, powerful, efficacious.
This phrafe was inter
(5) in bappy time,] A la bonne beure. jested, when the hearer was not quite fo well pleafed as the speaker.
Enter
D:3
Though I have, if I m2uftomed fignifies wonder
Enter Capulet, and Nurse.
Cap. When the Sun fets, 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?
Evermore fhow'ring? in one little body
Thou counterfeit'ft a bark, a fea, a wind;
For ftill thy eyes, which I may call the fea,
Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is,
Sailing in this falt flood; the winds thy fighs,
Which, raging with thy tears, and they with them,
Without a fudden calm will overfet
Thy tempeft-toffed body-How now, wife?
Have you deliver'd to her our decree?
La. Cap. Ay, Sir; but she will none, the 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 the none? Doth the not give us thanks ?
Is the not proud, doth the not count her bleft,
Unworthy as the 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
you not!
1
And yet not proud!-Why, Mistress Minion, You,
Thank me no thankings, nor prou me no prouds,
But fettle your fine joints 'gainft Thursday next,
To with Paris to St. Peter's church:
go
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! difobedient 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 fcarce thought us bleft,
That God hath fent us but this only child;
But now I fee this One is one too much,
And that we have a curfe in having her:
Out on her, hilding!
Nurfe. God in heav'n blefs her!
You are to blame, my Lord, to rate her fo.
Cap. And why? My lady Wisdom hold your tongue,
Good Prudence, fmatter with your goffips, go.
Nurfe. I fpeak no treafon-O, god-ye-good-den-
May not one fpeak ?
Cap. Peace, peace, you mumbling fool; Utter your gravity o'er a goffip's bowl,
For here we need it not.
La. Cap. You are too hot.
Cap. It makes me mad day, night, hour, tide, work, play,
Alone, in company, ftill my care hath been,
To have her match'd; and having now provided
A gentleman of noble parentage,
Of fair demefns, youthful, and nobly-allied,
Stuff'd, as they fay, with honourable parts.
Proportion'd as one's thoughts would with a man:
And then to have a wretched puling fool,
A whining mammet, in her fortune's Tender,
To anfwer, I'll not wed,- -I cannot love,
I am too young, -I pray you, pardon me
But, if 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 jeft.
Thursday is near; lay hand on heart, advise;
If you be mine, I'll give you to my friend:
If you be not, hang, beg, ftarve, die i' th' ftreets;
For, by my foul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee,
Nor what is mine fhall ever do thee good.
Truft to't, bethink you, I'll not be forefworn. [Exit.
Jul. Is there no pity fitting in the clouds,
That fees into the bottom of my grief?
O, fweet, my mother, caft me not away,
D 4
Delay this marriage for a month, a week;
Or, if you do not, make the bridal bed
In that dun 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 prevent→
ed?
My Husband is on Earth; my Faith in Heav'n;
How fhall that Faith return again to Earth,
Unless that Hufband fend it me from Heav'n,
By leaving Earth ?-
-Comfort me, counsel ine.
Alack, alack, that heav'n fhould practice ftratagems
Upon fo foft a fubject as myfelf!
Ag
What fay'ft thou? haft thou not a word of Joy?
Some Comfort, Nurfe.
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 fince the cafe fo ftands, as now it doth,
I think it beft you married with the Count.
Oh, he's a lovely gentleman!
Romeo's a difh-clout to him; an eagle, Madam,
Hath not (6) fo keen, fo quick, fo fair an eye
As Paris hath.. Befhrew my very heart,
I think you happy in this fecond match,
For it excels your first; or if it did not,
Your firft is dead; or 'twere as good he were,
(7) As living here, and you no ufe of him.
Jul. Speak'st thou from thy heart?
Nurfe. And from Soul too,
my
Or elfe befhrew them both.
Jul. Amen.
Nurfe. What?
Jul. Well, thou haft comforted me marvellous much; Go in, and tell my lady I am gone, Having difpleas'd my father, to Lawrence' cell, To make confeffion, and to be abfolv'd.
Nurfe. Marry, I will; and this is wifely done. [Exit.
(E) —fo keen,] Hanmer. In the other editions, fo green. (7) As living bere,] Sir T. Hanmer reads, as living hence; that is at a distance, in banishment, but bere may fignify, in this world.
Jul.
ful. Ancient Damnation! O moft wicked Fiend!
Is it more fin to wish me thus forfworn,
Or to difpraise my Lord with that fame tongue
Which the hath prais'd him with above compare,
So many thousand times? Go, Counsellor,
Thou and my bofom henceforth fhall be twain:
I'll to the Friar, to know his remedy;
If all else fail, myself have power to die.
The MONASTERY.
Enter Friar Lawrence and Paris.
FRIAR.
N Thurfday, Sir? The time is very fhort. Par. My father Capulet will have it so, (8) And I am nothing flow to flack his haste.
Fri. You fay, you do not know the lady's mind": Uneven is this courfe, I like it not.
Par. Immoderately the weeps for Tybalt's death,
And therefore have I little talk'd of love,
For Venus fmiles not in a house of tears.
Now, Sir, her father counts it dangerous,
That the should give her forrow fo much fway;
And, in his wifdom, haftes our marriage,
To stop the inundation of her tears;
Which, too much minded by herself alone,,
May be put from her by fociety.
Now do you know the reafon of this hafte ?
Fri. I would, I knew not why it should be flow'd.
[Afide.
Look, Sir, here comes the lady tow'rds my cell.
(8) And I am, &c.] His bafte fhall not be abated by my fewness.. It might be read,
And, I am norbing flow to back bis bafte.
That is, I am diligent to abet and enforce his hafte,
D. S
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