Jul. What must be shall be. Fri. That's a certain text. Par. Come you to make confession to this father? love me. Jul. If I do so, it will be of more price, Being spoke behind your back, than to your face. 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. Are you at leisure, holy father, now; Or shall I come to you at evening mass? Fri. My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now: 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 help! 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, God join'd my heart and Romeo's, thou our hands; Or my true heart with treacherous revolt Fri. Hold, daughter; I do spy a kind of hope, A thing like death to chide away this shame, That cop'st with death himself to scape from it; Jul. O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris, And hide me with a dead man in his shroud; Things that, to hear them told, have made me tremble; And I will do it without fear or doubt, To live an unstain'd wife to my sweet love. Fri. Hold, then; go home, be merry, give consent To marry Paris: Wednesday is to-morrow; To-morrow night look that thou lie alone, And this distilled liquor drink thou off: Each part, depriv'd of supple government, Shall stiff, and stark, and cold, appear like death: In thy best robes uncover'd on the bier, And this shall free thee from this present shame; Jul. Give me, O give me! tell me not of fear. Fri. Hold; get you gone, be strong and prosperous 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. Farewell, dear father! [Exeunt. SCENE II. A Room in Capulet's House. Enter CAPULET, Lady CAPULET, Nurse, and Cap. So many guests invite as here are writ.— [Exit Servant. Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks. 2 Serv. You shall have none ill, sir; for I'll try if they can lick their fingers. Cap. How canst thou try them so ? 2 Serv. Marry, sir, 'tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers: therefore he, that cannot lick his fingers, goes not with me. Cap. Go, begone. [Exit Servant. We shall be much unfurnish'd for this time. What, is my daughter gone to friar Laurence? Nurse. Ay, forsooth. Cap. Well, he may chance to do some good on her: A peevish self-will'd harlotry it is. Enter JULIET. Nur. See, where she comes from shrift 54 with merry look. Cap. How now, my headstrong? where have you been gadding? Jul. Where I have learn'd me to repent the sin |