Rom. And trust me, love, in my eye so do you: Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu! adieu!

[Exit ROMEO.

Jul. O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle: If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him That is renown'd for faith? Be fickle, fortune; For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long, But send him back.

La. Cap. [within.] Ho, daughter! are you up! Jul. Who is't that calls? is it my lady mother? Is she not down so late, or up so early? What unaccustom'd cause procures 2 her hither?

Enter Lady CAPULET.

La. Cap. Why, how now, Juliet ?

Jul.

Madam, I am not well. La. Cap. Evermore weeping for your cousin's

death?

What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears? An if thou could'st, thou could'st not make him live; Therefore, have done: Some grief shows much of

love;

But much of grief shows still some want of wit.
Jul. Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss.
La. Cap. So shall you feel the loss, but not the

friend Which you weep for.

Jul.

Feeling so the loss,

I cannot choose but ever weep the friend.

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.

2 Brings.

Jul. Villain and he are many miles asunder. God pardon him! I do, with all my heart; And yet no man, like he, doth grieve my heart. La. Cap. That is, because the traitor murderer lives. Jul. Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands. 'Would, none but I might venge my cousin's death! La. Cap. We will have vengeance for it, fear thou

not:

Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua, -
Where that same banish'd runagate doth live, -
That shall bestow on him so sure a draught,
That he shall soon keep Tybalt company :
And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied.

Jul. Indeed, I never shall be satisfied
With Romeo, till I behold him-dead-
Is my poor heart so for a kinsman vex'd :-
Madam, if you could find out but a man
To bear a poison, I would temper it;
That Romeo should, upon rec receipt thereof,
Soon sleep in quiet. - O, how my heart abhors
To hear him nam'd, -and cannot come to him, —
To wreak the love I bore my cousin Tybalt
Upon his body that hath slaughter'd him!

La. Cap. Find thou the means, and I'll find such

a man.

But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, 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 that?
La. Cap. Marry, my child, early next Thursday
The gallant, young, and noble gentleman,
The county Paris, at Saint Peter's church,
Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride.
Jul. Now, by Saint Peter's church, and Peter too,

He shall not make me there a joyful bride.
I wonder at this haste; that I must wed
Ere he, that should be husband, comes to woo.
I pray you, tell my lord and father, madam,
I will not marry yet; and when I do, I swear,
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

yourself, And see how he will take it at your hands. Enter CAPULET and Nurse.

Cap. When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle

dew;

But for the sunset of my brother's son,

It rains downright.

How now, a conduit, girl? what, still in tears?
Ever more showering? 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;
Who, raging with thy tears, and they with

them,

Without a sudden calm, will overset

Thy tempest-tossed body. -How now, wife?
Have you delivered 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, wife.

How! will she none? doth she not give us thanks?
Is she not proud? doth she not count her bless'd,
Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought
So worthy
to be her bridegroom?

gentleman a 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. How now! how now, chop-logick! What

is this?

Proud,-and, I thank you,-and, I thank you

not;

And yet not proud; - Mistress minion, you, Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds, But settle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next, To go with Paris to Saint Peter's church,

Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither.

Out, you green-sickness carrion! out, you baggage! You tallow face!

La. Cap. Jul. Good father, I beseech you on my knees, Hear me with patience but to speak a word.

Fye, fye! what are you mad?

Cap. Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient

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 scarce thought us bless'd,

That God had sent us but this only child;
But now I see this one is one too much,

And that we have a curse in having her:

Out on her, hilding ! 3

Nurse.

God in heaven bless her!

You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so.

Cap. And why, my lady wisdom? hold your

tougue,

Good prudence; smatter with your gossips, go.

Nurse. I speak no treason.

Cap.

O, God ye good den !

Cap.

Nurse. May not one speak?

Peace, you mumbling fool!

Utter your gravity o'er a gossip'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, still my care hath been
To have her match'd: and having now provided

A gentleman of princely parentage,
Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd,
Stuffed (as they say,) with honourable parts,
Proportion'd as one's heart could wish a man,-
And then to have a wretched puling fool,
A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender,
To answer-I'll not wed, I cannot love,
I am too young, I pray you, pardon me; --
But, an 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 :
An you be mine, I'll give you to my friend;
An you be not, hang, beg, starve, die i'the streets,
For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee,
Nor what is mine shall never do thee good :
Trust to't, bethink you, I'll not be forsworn. [Exit
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;