Shakespeare's First Folio Part 509

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Speake not, reply not, do not answere me.

My fingers itch, wife: we scarce thought vs blest, That G.o.d had lent vs but this onely Child, But now I see this one is one too much, And that we haue a curse in hauing her: Out on her Hilding

Nur. G.o.d in heauen blesse her, You are too blame my Lord to rate her so

Fa. And why my Lady wisedome? hold your tongue, Good Prudence, smatter with your gossip, go

Nur. I speak no treason, Father, O G.o.diG.o.den, May not one speake?



Fa. Peace you mumbling foole, Vtter your grauitie ore a Gossips bowles For here we need it not

La. You are too hot

Fa. G.o.ds bread, it makes me mad: Day, night, houre, ride, time, worke, play, Alone in companie, still my care hath bin To haue her matcht, and hauing now prouided A Gentleman of n.o.ble Parentage, Of faire Demeanes, Youthfull, and n.o.bly Allied, Stuft as they say with Honourable parts, Proportion'd as ones thought would wish a man, And then to haue a wretched puling foole, A whining mammet, in her Fortunes tender, To answer, Ile not wed, I cannot Loue: I am too young, I pray you pardon me.

But, and you will not wed, Ile pardon you.

Graze where you will, you shall not house with me: Looke too't, thinke on't, I do not vse to iest.

Thursday is neere, lay hand on heart, aduise, And you be mine, Ile giue you to my Friend: And you be not, hang, beg, starue, die in the streets, For by my soule, Ile nere acknowledge thee, Nor what is mine shall neuer do thee good: Trust too't, bethinke you, Ile not be forsworne Enter.

Iuli. Is there no pittie sitting in the Cloudes, That sees into the bottome of my griefe?

O sweet my Mother cast me not away, Delay this marriage, for a month, a weeke, Or if you do not, make the Bridall bed In that dim Monument where Tybalt lies

Mo. Talke not to me, for Ile not speake a word, Do as thou wilt, for I haue done with thee.

Enter.

Iul. O G.o.d!

O Nurse, how shall this be preuented?

My Husband is on earth, my faith in heauen, How shall that faith returne againe to earth, Vnlesse that Husband send it me from heauen, By leauing earth? Comfort me, counsaile me: Alacke, alacke, that heauen should practise stratagems Vpon so soft a subiect as my selfe.

What saist thou? hast thou not a word of ioy?

Some comfort Nurse

Nur. Faith here it is, Romeo is banished, and all the world to nothing, That he dares nere come backe to challenge you: Or if he do, it needs must be by stealth.

Then since the case so stands as now it doth, I thinke it best you married with the Countie, O hee's a Louely Gentleman: Romeos a dish-clout to him: an Eagle Madam Hath not so greene, so quicke, so faire an eye As Paris hath, beshrow my very heart, I thinke 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 liuing here and you no vse of him

Iul. Speakest thou from thy heart?

Nur. And from my soule too, Or else beshrew them both

Iul. Amen

Nur. What?

Iul. Well, thou hast comforted me marue'lous much, Go in, and tell my Lady I am gone, Hauing displeas'd my Father, to Lawrence Cell, To make confession, and to be absolu'd

Nur. Marrie I will, and this is wisely done

Iul. Auncient d.a.m.nation, O most wicked fiend!

It is more sin to wish me thus forsworne, Or to dispraise my Lord with that same tongue Which she hath prais'd him with aboue compare, So many thousand times? Go Counsellor, Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twaine: Ile to the Frier to know his remedie, If all else faile, my selfe haue power to die.

Exeunt.

Enter Frier and Countie Paris.

Fri. On Thursday sir? the time is very short

Par. My Father Capulet will haue it so, And I am nothing slow to slack his hast

Fri. You say you do not know the Ladies mind?

Vneuen is the course, I like it not

Pa. Immoderately she weepes for Tybalts death, And therfore haue I little talke of Loue, For Venus smiles not in a house of teares.

Now sir, her Father counts it dangerous That she doth giue her sorrow so much sway: And in his wisedome, hasts our marriage, To stop the inundation of her teares, Which too much minded by her selfe alone, May be put from her by societie.

Now doe you know the reason of this hast?

Fri. I would I knew not why it should be slow'd.

Looke sir, here comes the Lady towards my Cell.

Enter Iuliet.

Par. Happily met, my Lady and my wife

Iul. That may be sir, when I may be a wife

Par. That may be, must be Loue, on Thursday next

Iul. What must be shall be

Fri. That's a certaine text

Par. Come you to make confession to this Father?

Iul. To answere that, I should confesse to you

Par. Do not denie to him, that you Loue me

Iul. I will confesse to you that I Loue him

Par. So will ye, I am sure that you Loue me

Iul. If I do so, it will be of more price, Being spoke behind your backe, then to your face

Par. Poore soule, thy face is much abus'd with teares

Iul. The teares haue got small victorie by that: For it was bad inough before their spight

Pa. Thou wrong'st it more then teares with that report

Iul. That is no slaunder sir, which is a truth, And what I spake, I spake it to thy face

Par. Thy face is mine, and thou hast slaundred it

Iul. It may be so, for it is not mine owne.

Are you at leisure, Holy Father now, Or shall I come to you at euening Ma.s.se?

Fri. My leisure serues me pensiue daughter now.

My Lord you must intreat the time alone

Par. G.o.dsheild: I should disturbe Deuotion, Iuliet, on Thursday early will I rowse yee, Till then adue, and keepe this holy kisse.

Shakespeare's First Folio Part 509

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Shakespeare's First Folio Part 509 summary

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