If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him La. Cap. [Within.] Ho, daughter! are you up? Enter LADY CAPULET. La. Cap. Why, how now, Juliet? Jul. Madam, I am not well. La. Cap. Evermore weeping for your cousin's death? What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears? An if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live; Therefore, have done. Some grief shows much of love ; But much of grief shows still some want of wit. Jul. Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss. La. Cap. So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend Which you weep for. Jul. Feeling so the loss, I cannot choose but ever weep the friend. La. Cap. Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death, As that the villain lives which slaughtered him. Jul. What villain, madam? La. Cap. That same villain, Romeo. Jul. Villain and he are many miles asunder. La. Cap. That is, because the traitor-murderer lives. Jul. Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands. 'Would none but I might venge my cousin's death! La. Cap. We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not; Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua, 1 Procures for brings. Where that same banished runagate doth live,- Upon his body that hath slaughtered 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 needful 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 expect'st not, nor I looked not for. morn, The gallant, young, and noble gentleman, 3 The county Paris, at Saint Peter's church, Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride. Jul. Now, by Saint Peter's church, and Peter too, He shall not make me there a joyful bride. I wonder at this haste; that I must wed Ere he, that should be husband, comes to woo. 1 Thus the first quarto. The subsequent quartos and the folio, less intelligibly, read: "Shall give him such an unaccustomed dram." 2 A la bonne heure. This phrase was interjected when the hearer was not so well pleased as the speaker. 3 County, or countie, was the usual term for an earl in Shakspeare's time. Paris is, in this play, first styled a young earle. I pray you, tell my lord and father, madam, La. Cap. Here comes your father; tell him so yourself, And see how he will take it at your hands. Enter CAPULET and Nurse. Cap. When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle dew;1 But for the sunset of my brother's son, It rains downright.— How now, a conduit, girl? what, still in tears? Thy tempest-tossed body.-How now, wife? La. Cap. Ay, sir; but she will none, she 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 she none? doth she not give us thanks? Is she not proud? doth she not count her blessed, Unworthy as she 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, chop-logic! 2 What is this? 1 Thus the quarto 1597. The quarto 1599, and the folio, read, “the earth doth drizzle dew," which is philosophically true; and so, perhaps, the Poet wrote. 2 Capulet, as Steevens observes, uses this as a nickname. The hyphen Proud, and, I thank you,-and, I thank you not;— Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither. Out, you green-sickness carrion! out, you baggage! 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,-get thee to church o' Thursday, Speak not, reply not, do not answer me; My fingers itch.-Wife, we scarce thought us blessed, Nurse. God in heaven bless her! You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so. Cap. And why, my lady wisdom? Hold your tongue, Good prudence; smatter with your gossips, go. Nurse. I speak no treason. Cap. Nurse. May not one speak? Cap. O, God ye good den! Peace, you mumbling fool! You are too hot. Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl, La. Cap. Cap. God's bread! it makes me mad. Day, night, late, early, is wanting in the old copy. "Choplogyk is he that whan his mayster rebuketh his servaunt for his defawtes, he will give him xx wordes for one, or elles he will bydde the devylles paternoster in scylence."-The rriii Orders of Knaves, blk. 1. 1 Base woman. At home, abroad, alone, in company, Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly trained, In that dim monument where Tybalt lies. [Exit. La. Cap. Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word; Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee. [Exit. Jul. O God!-0 nurse! how shall this be pre vented? My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven; What say'st thou hast thou not a word of joy? Nurse. 'Faith, here 'tis. Romeo Is banished; and all the world to nothing, |