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Are you at leisure, holy father, now;
Or shall I come to you at evening mass ?

Fri. My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, My lord, I must entreat the time alone.

Par. Heav'n shield, I should disturb devotion. Juliet, farewell.

[Exit Paris. Jul. Go, shut the door, and when thou hast done

Come weep with me, past hope, past care, past help.

Fri. O Juliet, I already know thy grief.
Jul. Tell me not, Friar, that thou know'st my

Unless ihou tell me, how I may prevent it.
If in thy wisdom thou canst give no help,
Do thou but call


resolution wise, And with this steel I'll help it presently. Heav'n join'd my heart and Romeo's; thou, our

And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo seald,
Shall be the label to another deed,
Or my true heart, with treacherous revolt,
Turn to another, this shall slay them both.
Therefore, out of thy long experienc'd time,
Give me some present counsel, or behold,
"Twixt my extremes and ine, this bloody dagger
Shall play the umpire-

Fri. Hold, daughter! I do spy a kind of hope,
Which craves as desperate an execution,
As that is desperate which we would prevent.
If, rather than to marry County Paris,
Thou hast the strength or will to slay thyself,
Then it is likely thou wilt undertake
A thing like death, to free thee from this marriage;
And, if thou dar’st, I'll give thee remedy.

Júl. O bid me leap, rather than marry Paris, From off the battlements of yonder tower: Or chain me to some steepy mountain's top,

Where roaring bears and savage lions roam !
Or shut me nightly in a charnel house,
O’ercover'd quite with dead men's rattling bones,
With reeky shanks and yellow chapless sculls;
Or bid me go into a new made grave,
And hide me with a dead man in his shroud;
Things, that to hear them nam’d, have made me trem-

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; look thou lie alone; Let not thy Nurse lie with thee in thy chamber; And when thou art alone, take thou this phial, 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; And in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk death Thou shalt continue two and forty hours, And then awake, as from a pleasant sleep. Now, when the bridegroom in the morning coines To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead : Then, as the manner of our country is, In thy white robes uncover'd on the bier, Thou shalt be borne to that same ancient vault, Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie. In the mean time, against thou shalt awake, Shall Romeo by my letters know our drift. And hither shall he come: and he and I Will watch thy waking, and that very night Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua; And this shall free thee from this present shame,

If no unconstant toy, nor womanish fear,
Abate thy valour in the acting it.
Jul. Give me, Oh, give me, tell me not of fear.

[Taking the Phial.
Fri. Hold, get you gone, be strong and prosperous
In this resolve; l'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



CAPULET's House.

Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and NURSE. Cap. What, is my daughter gone to Friar Law

rence ? Nurse. Ay, forsooth. Cap. Well, he may chance to do some good on


A peevish, self-will'd harlotry it is.

Enter JULIET. Nurse. See, where she comes from shrift, with

merry look!

Cap. How now, my headstrong; where have you

been gadding?
Jul. Where I have learnt me to repent the sin
Of disobedient opposition
To you and your behests; and am enjoin'd,
By holy Lawrence, to fall prostrate here,
And beg your pardon ; pardon, I beseech you !
Henceforward I am ever ruled by you.

Cap. Send for the County; go tell him of this:

with me

my closet,

I'll have this knot knit up to-morrow morning.

Jul. I met the youthful lord at Lawrence' cell,
And gave him what becoming love I might,
Not stepping o'er the bounds of modesty.

Cap. Why, I'm glad on't; this is well";
Now, afore Heav'n this reverend holy Friar-
All our whole city is much bound to him.
Jul. Nurse, will you go

into To help me sort such needful ornaments As you

think fit to furnish me to-morrow. Lady C. No, not till Thursday; there is timo

enough. Cap. Go, Nurse, go with her; we'll to church to

[Exeunt JULIET and NURSE. Lady C. We shall be short in our provision; 'Tis now near night.

Cap. Tush, all things shall be well : Go thou to Juliet, help to deck up her; I'll not to bed, but walk myself to Paris, T appoint him 'gainst to-morrow. My heart's light, Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim'd.




JULIET's Chamber.

Enter JULIET and NURSE. Jul. Ay, those attires are best; but, gentle Nurse, I pray thee leave me to myself to night; For I have need of many orisons, To move the Heav'ns to smile upon my state, Which well thou know'st is cross, and full of sin.

Enter LADY CAPULET. Lady C. What, are you busy? do you need my

help? Jul. No, madam, we have cull’d such necessa ries

As are behoveful for our state to-morrow;
So please you, let me now be left alone,
And let the Nurse this night sit up with you ;
For I am sure you have your hands full all,
In this so sudden business.

Lady C. Then good night:
Get thce to bed, and rest, for thou hast need,

[Ereunt LADY CAPULET and NURSE. Jul. Farewell-Heav'n knows when we shall meet

I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins,
That almost freezes up the heat of life.
I'll call them back again, to comfort me.
Nurse-yet what should they do here?
My dismal scene I needs must act alone :

[Takes out a Phial.
Come, phial- What if this mixture do not act at all?
Shall I of force be married to the Count ?
No, no, this shall forbid it; lie thou there-

[Pointing to a Dagger. What if it be a poison, which the Friar Subtly hath minister’d, to have me dead, Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd, Because he married me before to Romeo ? I fear it is; and yet methinks it should not, For he hath still been tried an holy manHow, if when I am laid into the tomb, I wake before the time that Romeo Come to redeem me? there's a fearful point ! Shall I not then be stifled in the vault, To whose fuul mouth no wholesome air breathes in? And there be strangled ere my Romeo comes ? Or, if I live, is it not very like, The horrible conceit of death and night, Together with the terror of the place, As in a vault, an ancient receptacle, Where, for these many hundred years, the bones Of all my buried ancestors are pack’d;


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