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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,
And in his wisdom hastes our marriage,
To stop the inundation of her tears;
Which, too much minded by herself alone,
May be put from her by society:
Now do you know the reason of this haste.
FRIAR LAURENCE:
PARIS:
Happily met, my lady and my wife!
JULIET:
That may be, sir, when I may be a wife.
PARIS:
That may be must be, love, on Thursday next.
JULIET:
What must be shall be.
FRIAR LAURENCE:
That's a certain text.
PARIS:
Come you to make confession to this father?
JULIET:
To answer that, I should confess to you.
PARIS:
Do not deny to him that you love me.
JULIET:
I will confess to you that I love him.
PARIS:
So will ye, I am sure, that you love me.
JULIET:
If I do so, it will be of more price,
Being spoke behind your back, than to your face.
PARIS:
Poor soul, thy face is much abused with tears.
JULIET:
The tears have got small victory by that;
For it was bad enough before their spite.
PARIS:
Thou wrong'st it, more than tears, with that report.
JULIET:
That is no slander, sir, which is a truth;
And what I spake, I spake it to my face.
PARIS:
Thy face is mine, and thou hast slander'd it.
JULIET:
It may be so, for it is not mine own.
Are you at leisure, holy father, now;
Or shall I come to you at evening mass?
FRIAR LAURENCE:
My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now.
My lord, we must entreat the time alone.
PARIS:
God shield I should disturb devotion!
Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse ye:
Till then, adieu; and keep this holy kiss.
JULIET:
O shut the door! and when thou hast done so,
Come weep with me; past hope, past cure, past help!
FRIAR LAURENCE:
Ah, Juliet, I already know thy grief;
It strains me past the compass of my wits:
I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it,
On Thursday next be married to this county.
JULIET:
Tell me not, friar, that thou hear'st of this,
Unless thou tell me how I may prevent it:
If, in thy wisdom, thou canst give no help,
Do thou but call my resolution wise,
And with this knife I'll help it presently.
God join'd my heart and Romeo's, thou our hands;
And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo seal'd,
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-experienced time,
Give me some present counsel, or, behold,
'Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife