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If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him
La. Cap. [Within.) Ho, daughter! are you up?
Jul. Who is't that calls ? is it my lady mother?
you weep for.
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.
Feeling so the loss, I cannot choose but ever weep the friend. La. Cap. Well, girl, thou weep’st not so much for
Jul. What villain, madam ?
That same villain, Romeo.
heart; And yet no man, like he, doth grieve my heart.
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,-
Jul. Indeed, I never shall be satisfied
La. Cap. Find thou the means, and I'll find such a
But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl.
Jul. And joy comes well in such a needful time.
, 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.
Jul. Madam, in happy time, what day is that?
Jul. Now, by Saint Peter's church, and Peter too,
1 Thus the first quarto. The subsequent quartos and the folio, less intelligibly, read :
“Shall give him such an unaccustomed dram.” 2 Ala 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.
lord and father, madam,
yourself, And see how he will take it at your
Enter CAPULET and Nurse. Cap. When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle dew;? But for the sunset of
my It rains downright.How now, a conduit, girl? what, still in tears ? Evermore showering? In one little body Thou counterfeit'st a bark, a sea, a wind. For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea, Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is, Sailing in this salt flood; the winds, thy sighs, Who, -raging with thy tears, and they with them,Without a sudden calm, will overset Thy tempest-tossed body.—How now, wife ? Have you
delivered to her our decree? La. Cap. Ay, sir; but she will none, she gives you
thanks. I would the fool were married to her
! 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!? 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 ;-
Fie, fie! what, are you mad?
God in heaven bless her!
Nurse. I speak no treason.
O, God ye good den!
Peace, you mumbling fool!
You are too hot.
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 mrüi Orders of Knaves, blk. l.
1 Base woman.
At home, abroad, alone, in company,
Thursday is near; lay hand on heart, advise ;
Jul. Is there no pity sitting in the clouds,
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; How shall that faith return again to earth, Unless that husband send it me from heaven By leaving earth ?-Comfort me, counsel me.Alack, alack, that heaven should practise stratagems Upon so soft a subject as myself! -What say'st thou ? hast thou not a word of joy? Some comfort, nurse. Nurse.
'Faith, here 'tis. Romeo Is banished; and all the world to nothing,