Romeo and Juliet Page #15

JULIET:

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 lies.

LADY CAPULET:

Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word:

Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee.

Exit

JULIET:

O God!--O nurse, how shall this be prevented?

My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven;

How shall that faith return again to earth,

Unless that husband send it me from heaven

By leaving earth? comfort me, counsel me.

Alack, alack, that heaven should practise stratagems

Upon so soft a subject as myself!

What say'st thou? hast thou not a word of joy?

Some comfort, nurse.

Nurse

Faith, here it is.

Romeo is banish'd; and 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 county.

O, he's a lovely gentleman!

Romeo's a dishclout 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 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 of him.

JULIET:

Speakest thou from thy heart?

Nurse

And from my soul too;

Or else beshrew them both.

JULIET:

Amen!

Nurse

What?

JULIET:

Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much.

Go in:
and tell my lady I am gone,

Having displeased my father, to Laurence' cell,

To make confession and to be absolved.

Nurse

Marry, I will; and this is wisely done.

Exit

JULIET:

Ancient damnation! O most wicked fiend!

Is it more sin to wish me thus forsworn,

Or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue

Which she hath praised him 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, myself have power to die.

Exit

ACT IV:

SCENE I. Friar Laurence's cell.

Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and PARIS

FRIAR LAURENCE:

On Thursday, sir? the time is very short.

PARIS:

My father Capulet will have it so;

And I am nothing slow to slack his haste.

FRIAR LAURENCE:

You say you do not know the lady's mind:

Uneven is the course, I like it not.

PARIS:

Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death,

And therefore have I little talk'd of love;

For Venus smiles not in a house of tears.

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;

Which, too much minded by herself alone,

May be put from her by society:

Now do you know the reason of this haste.

FRIAR LAURENCE:

[Aside] I would I knew not why it should be slow'd.

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

Enter JULIET

PARIS:

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.

FRIAR LAURENCE:

That's a certain text.

PARIS:

Come you to make confession to this father?

JULIET:

To answer that, I should confess to you.

PARIS:

Do not deny to him that you love me.

JULIET:

I will confess to you that I love him.

PARIS:

So will ye, I am sure, that you love me.

JULIET:

If I do so, it will be of more price,

Being spoke behind your back, than to your face.

PARIS:

Poor soul, thy face is much abused with tears.

JULIET:

The tears have got small victory by that;

For it was bad enough before their spite.

PARIS:

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

JULIET:

That is no slander, sir, which is a truth;

And what I spake, I spake it to my face.

PARIS:

Thy face is mine, and thou hast slander'd it.

JULIET:

It may be so, for it is not mine own.

Are you at leisure, holy father, now;

Or shall I come to you at evening mass?

FRIAR LAURENCE:

My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now.

My lord, 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.

Exit

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