Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither. Out, you green-ficknefs 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 Hangthee, 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 fearce thought us blefs'd, But now I fee this one is one too much, Nurfe God in heaven blefs her ! You are to blame, my Lord, to rate her fo. Cap. And why, my Lady Wisdom? hold your tongue, Cap. Peace, peace, you mumbling fool; La Cap. You are too hot. Cap. God's bread! it makes me mad day, night, At home, abroad, alone, in company, [late, early, Waking, or fleeping, fill my care hath been To have her match'd; and having now provided Of fair demefnes, youthful, and nobly allied, A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender, I am too young,——I pray you pardon me— Grafe where you will, you fhall not houfe with me ; 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; Truft to't, bethink you, I'll not be forfworn. [Exit. La Cap. Talk not to me, for I'll not fpeak a word: Comfort me, counfel me.. Alack, alack, that Heav'n fhould practise stratagems What fay'ft thou? haft thou not a word of joy? Nurfe. 'Faith, here it is: Romeo is banifh'd; all the world to nothing, Romeo's a difh-clout to him; an eagle, Madam,. Nurfe. And from my foul too, Or elle befhrew them both. Jul. Amen. Nurfe. What? Jul. Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much. Go in, and tell my Lady I am gone, Having difpleas'd my father, to Lawrence' cell, Nurfe. Marry, I will; and this is wifely done. [Exit. Is it more fin to wifh me thus forfworn, If all elfe fail, myfelf have power to die. Fri. ACT IV. SCENE I. The monaftery. Enter Friar Lawrence and Paris. [Exit, N Thursday, Sir! the time is very short. And I am nothing flow to flack his hafte. Fri. You fay you do not know the lady's mind: Par, Immoderately the weeps for Tybalt's death, Now, do you know the reafon of this hafte? Fri. I would I knew not why it should be flow'd. Look, Sir, here comes the lady tow'rds my cell. Enter Juliet. [dfide. Par. Welcome, my love, my lady, and my wife! Fri. That's a certain text. Par. Come you to make confeffion to this father? Jul. To anfwer that, were to confefs to you. Par. Do not deny to him that you love me. Jul. I will confefs to you that I love him. Par. So will ye, I am fure, that you love me. Jul. If I do fo, it will be of more price,' Being fpoke behind your back, than to your face. Par. Poor foul, thy face is much abus'd with tears. Jul. The tears have got small victory by that: For it was bad enough before their fight. Par. Thou wrong'ft it more than tears, with that report. Jul. That is no flander, Sir, which is but truth; And what I fpeak, I speak it to my face. Par. Thy face is mine, and thou haft flander'd it. Jul. It may be fo, for it is not mine own. Are you at leifure, holy father, now; Or fhall I come to you at evening-mass? Fri. My leifure ferves me, penfive daughter, now. My Lord, I must intreat the time alone. Par. God fhield 1 should disturb devotion. Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse you : Till then, adieu! and keep this holy kifs. [Exit Paris. It trains me past the compass of my wits. Jul. 1 ell me not, Friar, that thou hear'ft of this, Unless thou tell me how I may prevent it. If in thy wisdom thou canst give no help, God join'd my heart and Romeo's; thou our hands; Or my true heart with treacherous revolt Shall play the umpire; arbitrating that Fri. Hold, daughter, I do 'fpy a kind of hope, A thing like death to chide away this fhame, Jul. O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris, O'er cover'd quite with dead mens' rattling bones, And hide me with a dead man in his fhroud; (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. [ble); Fri. Hold, then, go home, be merry, give confent 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 fhall run A cold and drowfy humour, which fhall feize Each vital fpirit; for no pulfe shall keep His nat'ral progrefs, but furcease to beat. No warmth no breath, fhall testify thou liveft; The roles in thy lips and cheeks fhall fade To paly afhes; thy eyes' windows fall, Like death, when he thuts up the day of life; Each part, depriv'd of fupple government, Shall ftiff, and ftark, and cold appear like death: VOL. VIII. F |