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,
That God had 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 heaven 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 goflip's bowl,
For here we need it not.

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
A gentleman of noble parentage,

Of fair demefnes, youthful, and nobly allied,
Stuff'd, as they fay, with honourable parts,
Proportion'd as one's thought would with a man:
And then to have a wretched puling fool,

A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender,
To answer, I'll not wed, cannot love,

I am too young,——I pray you pardon me—
But if you will not wed. I'll pardon you;

Grafe where you will, you fhall not houfe with me ;
Look to't, think on't, I do not use to jest.

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 forfworn. [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,
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 fpeak a word:
Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee. [Exit.
Jul. God! O nurfe! how fhall this be prevented?
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, counfel me..

Alack, alack, that Heav'n fhould practise stratagems
Upon fo foft a fubject as myfelf!

What fay'ft thou? haft thou not a word of joy?
Some comfort, nurse-

Nurfe. 'Faith, here it is:

Romeo is banifh'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 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 firft; or if it did not,
Your first is dead; or 'twere as good he were,
As living hence, and you no ufe of him.
Jul. Speak'st thou from thy heart ?

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,
To make confeffion, and to be abfolved.

Nurfe. Marry, I will; and this is wifely done. [Exit.
Jul. Ancient damnation! O moft wicked fiend!

Is it more fin to wifh me thus forfworn,
Or to difpraife my Lord with that fame tongue
Which the hath praised him with above compare,
So many thoufand times? Go, counsellor,-
Thou and my bofom henceforth fhall be twain:
I'll to the Friar, to know his remedy;

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.
Taur day father Capulet will have it fo,

And I am nothing flow to flack his hafte.

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 houfe of tears.
Now, Sir, her father counts it dangerous,
That the fhould give her forrow so much sway;
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.

Look, Sir, here comes the lady tow'rds my cell.

Enter Juliet.

[dfide.

Par. Welcome, my love, my lady, and my wife!
Jul. That may be, Sir, when I may be a wife.
Par. That may be, muft be, love, on Thursday next.
Jui. What must be, fhall be,

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.
Jul. Go fhut the door; and when thou haft done fo,
Come weep with me, past hope, past cure, past help.
Fri. O Juliet, I already know thy grief;

It trains me past the compass of my wits.
I hear you must, and nothing may prorogue it,
On Thursday next be married to this Count.

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,
Do thou but call my refolution wife,
And with this knife I'll help it prefently.

God join'd my heart and Romeo's; thou our hands;
And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo feal'd,
Shall be the label to another deed,

Or my true heart with treacherous revolt
Turn to another, this fhall flay them both.
Therefore, out of thy long experienc'd time,
Give me fome prefent counfel; or, behold,
'Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife

Shall play the umpire; arbitrating that
Which the commiffion of thy years and art
Could to no iffue of true honour bring.
Be not fo long to speak; I long to die,
If what thou fpeak'ft fpeak not of remedy.

Fri. Hold, daughter, I do 'fpy a kind of hope,
Which craves as defperate an execution
As that is defp'rate which we would prevent.
If, rather than to marry County Paris,
Thou haft the strength or will to flay thyfelf,
Then it is likely thou wilt undertake

A thing like death to chide away this fhame,
That cops with death himself, to 'fcape from it :
And if thou dar'ft, I'll give thee remedy.

Jul. O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris,
From off the battlements of yonder tower;
Or chain me to fome steepy mountain's top,
Where roaring bears and favage lions roam;
Or fhut me nightly in a charnel house,

O'er cover'd quite with dead mens' rattling bones,
With reeky fhanks, and yellow chapless fculls;
Or bid me go into a new made grave,

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