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Ro. And trust me, love, in my eye so do you : Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu! adieu !
[Erit Romeo. Ju. O Fortune, Fortune! all men call thee
L. Cap. [within.] Ho, daughter! are you up?
Ju. 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 1 her hither?
Enter LADY CAPULET.
L. Cap. Why, how now,
Madam, I am not well. L. Cap. Evermore weeping for your cousin's
death? What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with
tears ? An if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live; Therefore, have done: some grief shows much of
Ju. Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss.
Which you weep for.
Feeling so the loss, I cannot choose but ever weep the friend. L. Cap. Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for
his death, As that the villain lives which slaughter'd him. Ju. What villain, madam ?
That same villain, Romeo. Ju. Villain and be are many miles asunder. God pardon him! I do, with all my heart; And yet no man, like he, doth grieve my heart. L. Cap. That is, because the traitor murderer
lives. Ju. Ay, madam, from the reach of these my
hands. Would, none but I might venge my cousin's death! L. 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.
Ju. Indeed, I never shall be satisfied
heart so for a kinsman vex'd.
To wreak the love I bore my cousin Tybalt
L. Cap. Find thou the means, and I'll find such
But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl.
Ju. And joy comes well in such a needful time:
Ju. Madam, in happy time; what day is that?
Ju. Now, by saint Peter's church, and Peter too,
lord and father, madam,
yourself, And see how he will take it at your hands.
Enter CAPULET and NURSE.
Cap. When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle
But for the sunset of my brother's son,
deliver'd to her our decree? L. 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
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 a gentleman to be her bridegroom? Ju. Not proud, you have; but thankful, that you