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Fri. On thursday, fir? the time is very short.

Par. My father Capulet will have it so;
And I am nothing Now to Nack bis haste.

Fri. You say, you do not know the lady's mind;
Uneven is the course, I like it not.

Par. Immoderately the weeps for Tybalt's death,
And therefore have I little talk'd of love;
For Venus smiles not in a house of tears.
Now, fir, her father counts it dangerous,

That she doth give her forrow so much sway; į And, in his wisdom, 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 reason of this haste.

Fri. I would I knew not why it should be now'd.

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Look, fir, here comes the lady towards my cell.

Enter Juliet.
Par. Happily met, my lady, and my

wife!
Jul. That may be, sir, when I may be a wife.
Par. That may be, must be, love, on thursday next.
Jul. What must be shall be.
Fri.

That's a certain text.
Par. Come you to make confession to this father ?
Jul. To answer that, were to confess to you.

Par. Do not deny to him, that you love me.
Jul. I will confess to you, that I love him.
Par. So will you, I am sure, that you love me.

ful. If I do so, it will be of more price,
Being spoke 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 spite.

Par. Thou wrong'st it, more than tears, with that report.

Jul. That is no flander, fir, that is a truth; And what I spake, I spake it to my face.

Par. Thy face is mine, and thou haft Nander'd it.

Jul. It may be fo, for it is not mine own.-
Are you at leisure, holy father, now;
Or fhall I come to you at evening mass ?

Fri. My leisure ferves me, pensive daughter, now:My lord, we muit entreat the time alone.

Par. God fhield, I thould disturb devotion! Juliet, on thursday early will I rouse you : Till then, adieu! and keep this holy kiss. [Exit PARIS.

Jul, 0, shut the door! and when thou hast done fo, Come weep with me; Past hope, past cure, past help!

Fri. Ah, Juliet, I already know thy grief;
It strains me past the compass of my wits :
I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it,
On thursday next be married to this county.

Jul. Tell me not, friar, that thou hear'st 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 resolution wise,
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 feald,
Shall be the label to another deed,
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Or

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Or my true heart with treacherous revolt
Turn to another, this shall say them both :
Therefore, out of thy long-experienc'd time,
Give me some present counsel; or, behold,
'Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife
Shall play the umpire; arbitrating that
Which the commission of thy years and art
Could to no issue of true honour bring.
Be not so long to speak; I long to die,
If what thou speak 't speak not of remedy.

Fri. Hold, daughter; I do spy a kind of hope,
Which craves as desperate an execution
As that is desperate which we would prevent.
If, rather than to marry county Paris,
Thou hast the ftrength of will to flay thyself;
Then is it likely, thou wilt undertake
A thing like death to chide away this shame,
That cop'lt with death himself to scape 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 walk in thievish ways; or bid me lurk
Where serpents are; chain me with roaring bears ;
Or shut me nightly in a charnel-house,
O’er-cover'd quite with dead men's rattling bones,
With reeky fhanks, and yellow chapless -sculls;
Or bid me go into a new-made grave,
And hide me with a dead man in his shroud;
Things that, to hear them told, have made me tremble;
And I will do it without fear or doubt,
To live an unstain'd wife to my sweet love.

Fri. Hold, then; go home, be merry, give consent
To marry Paris : Wednesday is to-morrow;
To-morrow night look that thou lie alone,

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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 shall run
A cold and drowsy humour, which shall seize
Each vital spirit; for no pulse Thall keep
His natural progress, but surcease to beat :
No warmth, no breath, thall testify thou liv'st;
The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade
To paly ashes; thy eyes' windows fall,
Like death, when he shuts up the day of life;
Each part, depriv'd of supple government,
Shall stiff, and stark, and cold, appear like death :
And in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk death
Thou shalt remain full two and forty hours,
And then awake as from a pleasant sleep.
Now when the bridegroom in the morning comes
To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead :
Then (as the manner of our country is,)
In thy best robes uncover'd on the bier,
Thou shalt be borne to that same ancient vault,
Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie.
In the mean time, against thou shalt awake,
Shall Romeo by my letters know our drift;
And hither shall he come ; and he and I
Will watch thy waking, and that very night
Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua.
And this shall free thee from this present shame;
If no unconstant toy, nor womanith fear,
Abate thy valour in the acting it.

Jul. Give me, o give me! tell me not of fear.

Fri. Hold; get you gone, be strong and prosperous In this resolve : I'll send a friar with speed To Mantua, with my letters to thy lord.

Jul. Love, give me strength! and strength shall help afford. Farewell, dear father!

(Exeunt.

SCENE II.

A Room in Capulet's House.

Enter CAPULET, Lady CAPULET, Nurse, and Servant. Cap. So many guests invite as here are writ.

[Exit Servant. Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks.

2. Serv. You shall have none ill, fir; for I'll try if they can lick their fingers.

Cap. How canst thou try them fo?

2. Serv. Marry, fir, 'tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers : therefore he, that cannot lick his fingers, goes not with me. Cap. Go, begone.

[Exit Servant. We shall be much unfurnish'd for this time. What, is my daughter gone to friar Laurence ?

Nurse. Ay, forsooth.

Cap. Well, he may chance to do some good on her: A peevith self-willid harlotry it is.

Enter JULIET.
Nurse. See, where she comes from shrift with merry look.
Cap. How now, my headstrong? where have you been

gadding?
Jul. Where I have learn'd me to repent the fin
Of disobedient opposition
To you, and your behests; and am enjoin'd
By holy Laurence to fall proftrate here,
And beg your pardon :-Pardon, I beseech you!
Henceforward I am ever ruld by you.

Сар.

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