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FRIAR LAURENCE'S CELL.
Enter Friar Laurence and Paris.
Par. My father Capulet will have it so;
Fri. You say, you do not know the lady's mind; Uneven is the course, I like it not.
Par. 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. Fri. I would I knew not why it should be slow'd.
[Aside. Look, sir, 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.
That's a certain text.
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 slander, sir, that is a truth; And what I spake, I spake it to my face.
Par. Thy face is mine, and thou hast slander'd it.
Jul. It may be so, for it is not mine own.-
Fri. My leisure serves me, pensive daughter,
My lord, we must entreat the time alone.
Par. God shield, I should disturb devotion!Juliet, on thursday early will I rouse you: Till then, adieu! and keep this holy kiss.
[Exit Paris. Jul. O, shut the door! and when thou hast done
so, Come weep with me; Past hope, past cure, past
Fri. Ah, Juliet, I already know thy grief;
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 l'll help it presently. God join'd
n'd my heart and Romeo's, thou our hands;
my extremes and me this bloody knife
Fri. Hold, daughter; I do spy a kind of hope,
Jul. O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris,
From off the battlements of yonder tower;
sent To marry Paris: Wednesday is to-morrow; To-morrow night look that thou lie alone, 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 shall keep His natural progress, but surcease to beat: No warmth, no breath, shall 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
Jul. Give me, O give me! tell me not of fear.
perous 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. Farewel, dear father!
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.