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La. Cap. Well girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death, As that the villain lives which slaughter'd him.

Jul. What villain, madam ?
La. Cap. That same villain, Romeo.
Jul. Villain and he are many miles alunder.

La. Cap. Content thee girl. If I could find a man,
I soon would send to Mantua where he is,
And give him such an unaccustom'd drain
That he should soon keep Tybalt company.
Jul. Find


the means, and I'll find such a man,
For wbile he lives, my heart shall ne'er be light
Till I behold him -- dead ----- is my poor heart,
Thus for a kinsman vext ?

La. Cap. Well, 'let that pass.
I come to bring thee joyful tydings, 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,
Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy,
That thou expect'st not, nor I look’d not for.

Jul. Madam, 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 halte, that I must wed
Ere he that must be husband comes to wooe.
I pray you


lord and father, madam,
I will not marry 'yet, and when I do,
It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate,


Rather than Paris. These are news indeed.

La. Cap. Here comes your father, tell him so your self,
And see how he will take it at your hands.

Enter Capulet and nurse.
Cap. How now? a conduit, girl? what, still in tears?
Evermore show'ring? in one little body
Thou counterfeit'st a bark, a sea, a wind;
For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea,
Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is
Sailing in this salt flood: the winds thy sighs,
Which raging with thy tears, and they with them,
Without a sudden calm, will overset
Thy tempest-tossed body ----- How now, wife?
Have you deliver'd to her our decree?

La. Cap. 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,

How, will she none? doth The not give us thanks ?
Is The not proud? doth the not count her blest,
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.

Cap. Proud! and I thank you! and I thank you not!
Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds,
But settle your fine joints ’gainft Thursday next,
To go with Paris to saint Peter's church:
Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither.

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.

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Cap. Hang thee, young baggage, disobedient wretch,
I tell thee what, get thee to church a 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 blest,
That God had seat us but this only child,
But now I see this one is one too much,
And that we have a curfe in having her:
Out on her, hilding.

Nurse. God in heaven bless her:
You 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 --O god-ye-good-den May not one speak ?

Cap. Peace you mumbling fool, Utter your gravity o'er a gollip's bowl, For here we need it not.

La. Cap. You are too hot.

Cap. God's bread, it makes me mad: "day, night, late, early, At home, abroad; alone, in company, Waking or sleeping; ftill my care hath been To have her match’d; and having now provided A gentleman of noble parentage, Of fair demeans, youthful, and nobly allied, Stuffd as they say with honourable parts, Proportion'd as ones thought would with a man: And then to have a wretched puling fool, A whining mammet, in her fortunes tender, To answer, I'll not wed, I cannot love, I am too young, I pray you pardon me ---

* Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, and play, Alone, in company, fill my care hath been &c.



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 jest.
Thursday is near, lay hand on heart, advise;
If you be mine, I'll give you to my friend:

not, hang, beg, starve, die i'th' streets;
For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee,
Nor what is mine shall ever do thee good:
Trust to’t, bethink you, I'll not be forsworn.

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 lyes.

La. Cap. Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word:
Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee.

Jul. O God! O nurse, how shall this be prevented ?
Alack, alack, that heav'n should practise stratagems
Upon so soft a subject as my self.

Nurse. Faith here it is:
Romeo is banishd, 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 as now it doth,
I think it best you married with the count.
Oh he's a lovely gentleman!
Romeo's a dish-clout to him; an eagle, madam,
Hath not so green, so quick, so fair an eye
As Paris hath. Beshrew my very heart,
I think you happy in this second match,
For it excels your first; or if it did not,



my soul

Your first is dead, or 'twere as good he were,
As living here, and you no use of him.

Jul. Speakest thou from thy heart ?
Nurfe. And from

too, Or else beshrew them both.

Jul. Amen.
Nurse. What?

Jul. Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much;
Go in, and tell my lady I am gone,
Having displeas'd my father, to Lawrence' cell,
To make confession, and to be absolved.

Nurse, Marry I will, and this is wisely done.

Jul. Ancient damnation! O most wicked fiend!
Is it more sio to wish me thus forsworn,
Or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue
Which she hath prais’d bim 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, my self have power to die.



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