Is my poor Heart, fo for a Kinsman vext :
Madam, if you could find out but a Man
To bear a Poison, I would temper it ;
That Romeo should, upon 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 needy 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 expects nos, nor I look'd not for.

Jul. Madam, in happy time, what day is this?

LA. Cap. Marry, my Child, early next Thursday morn,
The gallant, young, and noble Gentleman,
The County of Paris, at St. Peter's Church,
Shall happily make thee a joyful Bride.

Jul. Now by St. Peter's Church, and Peter too,
He shall not make me there a joyful Bride.
I wonder at this haste, that I must wed
E'er he that should be Husband comes to woe.
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 your self, And see how he will take it at your hands.

Enter Capulet and Nurse. Cap. When the Sun sets, the Earth doth drizzle Dew; But for the Sunset of my Brother's Son, It rains down-right. How now? a Conduit, Girl? what, still in tears? Evermore show'ring in one little Body? Thy Counterfeit's a Bark, a Sea, a Wind; For ftill thy Eyes, which I may call the Sea, Do ebb and flow with çears, the Bark thy Body Sailing in this falt Flood, the Winds thy Sighs,


[ocr errors]

Who raging with the Tears, and they with them,
Without a sudden Calm will over-set
Thy tempeft-tofled Body. How now, Wife?
Have you delivered to her our Decree?

La. Cap. Ay, Sir ;
But she will none, the 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 me none? doth she not give us thanks?
Is the not proud? doth she not count her bleft,
Unworthy as the is, that we have wrought
So worthy a Gentleman to be her Bridegroom

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? chopt Logick? what is this?
Proud! and I thank you! and I thank you not!
Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds,
Bur secile 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,
Out you Tallow-face.

La. Cap. Fie, fie, what are you mad?

Jul Good Father, I beseech you on my Knees,
Hear me with patience, but to speak a word.

Cap. Hang thee, young Baggage, disobedient Wretch,
I tell thee what, ger thee to Church a 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 blest,
That God had lent 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.

Nur. God in Heav'n bless her,
You are to blame, my Lord, to rate ber so.

Cap. And why, my Lady Wisdom? hold your tongue,
Good Prudence, smarter with your Gollip, go.


Nur. I speak no Treason,
O God-ye-good-dan
May not one speak?

Cap. 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, hour, ride, time, work, play,
Alone, in company, still my care hath been
To have her matcli'd, and having now provided
A Gentleman of Noble Parentage,
Of fair Demeans, Youthful, and nobly Allied,
Stuffd, as they say, with honourable Parts,
Proportion'd as ones thought would wish a Man:
And then to have a wretched puling Fool,
A whining Mammet, in her Fortunes tender,
To answer I'll not wed, I cannot Love,
I am too young, I pray you pardon me.
But, and 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;
And you be mine, I'll give you to my Friend :
And you be not, hang, beg, ftarve, die in the Streets,
For, by my Soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee,
Nor what is mine, fhall never do thee good:
Trust to's, bethink you, I'll not be forsworn.

Jul. Is there no pity fitting 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 lyes,

La.Cap. Talk not to me, for i'll not fpeak a word:
Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee. [Exit.

Jul. O God!
O Nurse, how shall this be prevented?
My Husband is on Earth, my Faith in Heav'n,
How shall that Faith return again to Earth,
Unless that Husband send it me from Heav'n,


[ocr errors]

By leaving Earth? Comfort me, counsel me,
Alack, alack, that Heav'n should pra&ise Stratagems
Upon so soft a Subje& as my self.
What say'lt thou hast thou not a word of joy?
Some comfort, Nurfe.

Nur. 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, ic needs must be by stealth.
Then since the case fo stands as now it doth,
I think it beft you married with the Count,
Oh he's a lovely Gentleman;
Romeo's a Dish-clout to him; an Eagle, Madam,
Hath not so green, so quick, so fair an Eye
As Paris hach: 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.

Jul. Speakest thou from thy Heart?

Nur. And from my Soul too,
Or elle beshrew th:m both.

Jul. Amen.
Nur. What ?

Jul. Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much;
Go in, and tell my Lady I am gone,
Having displeas'd my Father, to Lawrence Cell,
To make Confession, and to be Abfolved.

Nur. Marry I will, and this is wisely done. [Exit.

Jul. 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 prais'd him with above compare,
So many thousand tiines? Go, Counsellor,
Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twain :
I'll to the Friar to know his remedy.
If all elle fail, my self have power to die. fExeunt.

[merged small][ocr errors]



SCENE the Monastery.

Enter Friar Lawrence and Paris.


N Thursday, Sir! the time is very short.

Par. My Father Capulet will have it so, And I am nothing How to flack his haste.

Fri. You say you do not know the Lady's mind:
Uneven is the course, I like it not.

Par. Immoderately the weeps for Tybalt's Death,
And therefore have I little talk of Love,
For Venus smiles not in a House of Tears:
Now, Sir, her Father counts it dangerous
That Me should give her Sorrow so much sway;
And, in his Wisdom, haftes our Marriage,
To stop the Inundation of her Tears,
Which too much minded by her self alone,
May be put from her by Society.
Now do


know the reason of this haste? Fri. I would I knew not why it should be sow'd. 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 Wise.
Par. That may be, must be, Love, on Thursday next.
Jul. What must be, shall be.
Fri, That's a certain Text.
Par. Come you to make Confellion to this Father?
Jul. To answer that, I should confess to you.
Par. Do not deny to him, that you love me.
Jul. I will confess to you that I love him.
Par. So will ye, I am sure that you love me.

Jul. If I do so, it will be of more Price,
Being spoke behind your Back, than to your Face.

Par. Poor Soul, thy Face is much abusd with Tears,

Jul. The Tears have got small Victory by that: : For ic was bad enough before their fpight. Par. Thou wrong'st it, more than Tears, with that report,


« VorigeDoorgaan »