La. Cap. Find thou the means, and I'll find such a man. But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl. Jul. And joy comes well in such a needful time: What are they, I beseech your ladyship? La. Cap. Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child: One, who, to put thee from thy heaviness, That thou expect'st not, nor I look'd not for. The gallant, young, and noble gentleman, Jul. Now, by Saint Peter's church, and Peter too, I 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? Thy tempest-tossed body.-How now, wife? La. Cap. Ay, sir; but she will none, she gives 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 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. Proud,—and, I thank you,-and, I thank you not;- Out, you green-sickness carrion! out, you baggage ! La. Cap. Fye, fye! 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 ; # Base woman. Nurse. God in heaven bless her!— Cap. And why, my lady wisdom? hold your Good prudence; smatter with your gossips, go. Cap. Nurse. May not one speak? Cap. O, God ye good den! Peace, you mumbling fool! You are too hot. Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl, La. Cap. Cap. God's bread! it makes me mad: Day, night, late, early, At home, abroad, alone, in company, Waking, or sleeping, still my care hath been Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd, I am too young, An you be not, hang, beg, starve, die i'the streets, For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee, Nor what is mine shall never do thee good: Trust to't, bethink you, I'll not be forsworn. [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 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; What say'st thou hast thou not a word of joy? Nurse. 'Faith, here 'tis : Romeo Is banished; and all the world to nothing, That he dares ne'er come back to challenge you; Romeo's a dishclout to him; an eagle, madam, Jul. Speakest thou from thy heart? Or else beshrew them both. Jul. Nurse. From my soul too; Amen! To 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. [Exit, Jul. Ancient damnation! O most wicked fiend! Is it more sin-to wish me thus forsworn, If all else fail, myself have power to die. ACT IV. SCENE I. Friar Laurence's cell. Enter Friar Laurence and Paris. [Exit. 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 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. Now, sir, her father counts it dangerous, That she doth give her sorrow so much sway; And, in his wisdom, hastes 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 slow'd. [Aside. Look, sir, here comes the lady towards my cell. Enter Juliet. Par. Happily met, my lady, and my wife! |