La. Cap. Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn, Jul. Now, by Saint Peter's church, and Peter too, 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; But for the sunset of my brother's son, It rains downright.— How now? a conduit, girl? what, still in tears? Thou counterfeit'st a bark, a sea, a wind: 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 bless'd, 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 ; [6] It is remarked, that "Paris, though in one place called Earl, is most "commonly styled the Countie in this play. Shakspeare seems to have pre"ferred, for some reason or other, the Italian Comte to our Count; perhaps " he took it from the old English novel, from which he is said to have taken "his plot." He certainly did so: Paris is there first styled a young Earle, and afterwards Counte, Countee, and County; according to the unsettled orthography of the time. FARMER. But thankful even for hate, that is meant love. Cap. How now! how now, chop-logic! What is this? Proud,—and, I thank you,—and, I thank you not ;And yet not proud;-Mistress minion, you, Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds, But settle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next, To go with Paris to Saint Peter's church, Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither. Out, you green-sickness carrion! Out, you baggage ! You tallow-face !7 La. Cap. Fye, fye! 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, Or never after look me in the face : Speak not, reply not, do not answer me; My fingers itch.-Wife, we scarce thought us bless'd, But now I see this one is one too much, 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. O, God ye good den! Nurse. May not one speak? Cap. Peace, you mumbling fool! Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl, For here we need it not. La. Cap. You are too hot. Cap. God's bread! it makes me mad: Day, night, late, early, At home, abroad, alone, in company, Waking, or sleeping, still my care hath been Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd, [7] Such was the indelicacy of the age of Shakspeare, that authors were not contented only to employ these terms of abuse in their own original performances, but even felt no reluctance to introduce them in their versions of the most chaste and elegant of the Greek or Roman poets. Stanyhurst, the translator of Virgil in 1582, makes Dido Call Eneas-Hedge-brat, cullion, and tar-breech, in the course of one speech. STEEVENS. Proportion'd as one's heart could wish a man,- [Exit. Graze where you will, you shall not house with me; 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, That he dares ne'er come back to challenge you; Or, if he do, it needs must be by stealth. Romeo's a dishclout to him; an eagle, madam, [8] The character of the Nurse exhibits a just picture of those whose actions have no principles for their foundation. She has been unfaithful to the trust reposed in her by Capulet, and is ready to embrace any expedient that offers, to avert the consequences of her first infidelity. STEEVENS. I think you are happy in this second match, Jul. Speakest thou from thy heart? Or else beshrew them both. Jul. Amen! Nurse. To what? Jul. Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much. Go in ; and tell my lady I am gone, Having displeas'd my father, to Laurence' cell, To make confession, and to be absolv'd. Nurse. Marry, I will; and this is wisely done. [Exit. Jul. Ancient damnation! O most wicked fiend! Is it more sin-to wish me thus forsworn, Or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twain.- ACT IV. [Exit. SCENE 1.-Friar LAURENCE's Cell. Enter Friar LAURENCE and PARIS. Friar. On Thursday, sir? the time is very short. And I am nothing slow, to slack his haste. Fri. You say, you do not know the lady's mind; Uneven is the course, I like it not. Par. Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death, And therefore have I little talk'd of love; For Venus smiles not in a house of tears. Now, sir, her father counts it dangerous, That she doth give her sorrow so much sway; Now do you know the reason of this haste. Fri. I would I knew not why it should be slow'd. [Asi. -Look, sir, here comes the lady towards my cell. |