Romeo + Juliet Page #6

Lady Capulet:

O, Daughter! Juliet!

Juliet:

O God, I have an ill-divining soul. Methinks I see thee, now thou art so low, as one dead in the bottom of a tomb.

Romeo:

Adieu.

Juliet:

O fortune, fortune. Be fickle, fortune, for then I hope that thou will not keep him long but send him back.

Lady Capulet:

Thou hast a careful father, child: One who, to put thee from thy heaviness, hath sorted out a sudden day of joy that thou expects nor I looked not for.

Juliet:

Madam, in happy time what day is that?

Lady Capulet:

Marry my child next Thursday Morn the gallant, young and noble gentleman, Sir Paris, at Saint Peter's Church, shall make thee there a joyful bride.

Juliet:

Now. St. Peter's Church, and Peter too, he shall not make me there a joyful bride!

Lady Capulet:

Here comes your father, tell him so yourself.

Capulet:

How now, wife? Have you delivered to her our decree?

Lady Capulet:

Ay Sir! But she will none, she gives you thanks. I would the fool were married to her grave.

Capulet:

How? Will she none? Is she not proud? Doth she not count her blest, unworthy as she is, that we have wrought so worth a gentleman to be her bride?

Juliet:

Not proud you have, but thankful that you have. Proud can I never be of what I hate!

Capulet:

Thanks me no thanking, nor proud me no prouds, But fettle your joints 'gainst Thursday next.

Juliet:

Hear me with patience.

Capulet:

Speak not, reply not, do not answer me.

Lady Capulet:

Fie, Fie, are you mad?

Capulet:

Hang thee, young baggage, disobedient wretch.

Nurse:

God in heaven bless her! You are to blame my lord, to rate her so!

Capulet:

Peace you mumbling fool! Tell you what! I tell thee what-get thee to church o' Thursday Or never after look me in the face an you be mine, I give you to my friend. An you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in the streets, Trust to it. Bethink you. I'll not be forsworn!

Juliet:

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.

Lady Capulet:

Talk not to me, for Ill not speak a word. Do as thou wilt for I have done with thee.

Juliet:

O God!--O Nurse, how shall this be prevented? What sayest thou? Hast thou not a word of joy? Some comfort nurse.

Nurse:

Faith, here it is. I think it best you marry with this Paris. O, he's a lovely gentleman. I think you are happy in this second match, for it excels your first; or if it did not, your first is dead--or 'twere as good he were as living here and you no use to him.

Juliet:

Speakest thou from thy heart?

Nurse:

And from my soul too. Else beshrew them both.

Juliet:

Amen

Nurse:

What?

Juliet:

Well, thou hast comforted me marvelous much. Go in and tell my lady I am gone, having displeased my father to Friar Lawrence to make confession and be absolved.

Paris:

Immoderately she weeps for Tybalts death. 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. Happily met, my lady, and my wife.

Juliet:

That may be, sir, when I may be a wife.

Paris:

That "may be," must be, love, on Thursday next.

Juliet:

What must be, shall be.

Father Lawrence:

Well, that's a certain text.

Paris:

Come you to make confession?

Juliet:

Are you at leisured Holy Father, now? Or shall I come to you at evening mass?

Father Lawrence:

My leisure serves me, pensive daughter now. Good sir, we must entreat the time alone.

Paris:

God shield I Should disturb devotion. Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse ye, till then, adieu, and keep this holy kiss.

Juliet:

Tell me not, Father, that thou hearest of this, Unless thou tell me how I may prevent it.

Father Lawrence:

It strains me past the compass of my wits.

Juliet:

If in thy wisdom thou canst give no help do thou but call my resolution wise, And with this I'll help it presently!

Father Lawrence:

Hold Daughter!

Juliet:

Be not so long to speak I long to die.

Father Lawrence:

I do spy a kind of hope, Which craves as desperate and execution as that is desperate which we would prevent. If, rather than to marry Paris, Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself, then it is likely thou wilt undertake a thing like death, to chide away this shame. And it thou dost, I'll give thee remedy. No warmth, no breath shall testify thou livest. Each part, deprived of supple government, shall stiff and stark and cold appear, like death. Now when the bridegroom in the morning comes to rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead. Thou shalt be born to that same ancient vault where all he kindred to the Capulet lie. And in this likeness of shrunk death continue in four and twenty ours and then you shall awake from a pleasant. In the meantime, against thou shalt awake, shall Romeo by my letters know our drift, and hither shall he come. And that very night shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua. Take thou this vial, being then in bed, and this distilling liquor drink thou off. I'll send my letters to thy lord post haste to Mantua.

Mail Man:

Hello!?

Juliet:

What if this mixture do not work at all? Shall I be married then tomorrow morning?

Lady Capulet:

What, daughter are you busy? Need you my help?

Juliet:

No, madam. We have culled such necessaries as our behoveful for our state tomorrow. So please you, let me now be left alone, and let the nurse this night sit up with you. For I am sure you have your hands full in all this so sudden business.

Lady Capulet:

Good night. Geth thee to be and rest, for thou has need.

Juliet:

Farewell. God knows when we shall meet again.

Lady Capulet:

Good night.

Juliet:

Romeo, I drink to thee.

Father Lawrence:

As the custom is, in all her best array, bear her to church.

Romeo:

And all this day an unaccustomed spirit lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts. I dreampt my lady came and found me dead and breathed such life with kisses in my lips that I revived and was an emperor. Ah me, how sweet is love itself possessed when but love's shadow's are so rich in joy. News from Verona. How now, Balthasar?! Dost thou not bring me letters from the Priest? How doth my lady? Is my Father well? How doth my lady Juliet? For nothing can be ill if she be well.

Balthasar:

If she is well then nothing can be ill. Her body rests in Chapel's monument, and her immortal part with the angel's lives. I saw her laid low. Pardon me for bringing these ill news.

Romeo:

Then I defy you, stars! JULIET! JULIET! I will hence tonight.

Balthasar:

Have patience!

Romeo:

Leave Me!

Balthasar:

Your looks are pale and wild and do import some misadventure.

Romeo:

Tush, thou art deceived. Hast thou no letters to me from the priest?

[BALTHASAR shakes his head no.]

Romeo:

No matter. Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee tonight. I will hence tonight.

Police Officer:

Romeo is within Verona Wall's.

Father Lawrence:

Fear comes upon me. Oh what do I fear? Some ill fait.

Romeo:

Let me have a dram of poison, such some speeding gear, as will disperse itself through all the veins, that the life weary taker may fall dead

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