Par. Happily met, my Lady and my wife

Iul. That may be sir, when I may be a wife

Par. That may be, must be Loue, on Thursday next

Iul. What must be shall be

Fri. That's a certaine text

Par. Come you to make confession to this Father? Iul. To answere that, I should confesse to you

Par. Do not denie to him, that you Loue me

Iul. I will confesse to you that I Loue him

Par. So will ye, I am sure that you Loue me

Iul. If I do so, it will be of more price, Being spoke behind your backe, then to your face

Par. Poore soule, thy face is much abus'd with teares

Iul. The teares haue got small victorie by that: For it was bad inough before their spight

Pa. Thou wrong'st it more then teares with that report

Iul. That is no slaunder sir, which is a truth, And what I spake, I spake it to thy face

Par. Thy face is mine, and thou hast slaundred it

Iul. It may be so, for it is not mine owne. Are you at leisure, Holy Father now, Or shall I come to you at euening Masse? Fri. My leisure serues me pensiue daughter now. My Lord you must intreat the time alone

Par. Godsheild: I should disturbe Deuotion, Iuliet, on Thursday early will I rowse yee, Till then adue, and keepe this holy kisse.

Exit Paris.

Iul. O shut the doore, and when thou hast done so, Come weepe with me, past hope, past care, past helpe

Fri. O Iuliet, I alreadie know thy griefe, It streames me past the compasse of my wits: I heare thou must and nothing may prorogue it, On Thursday next be married to this Countie

Iul. Tell me not Frier that thou hearest of this, Vnlesse thou tell me how I may preuent it: If in thy wisedome, thou canst giue no helpe, Do thou but call my resolution wise, And with this knife, Ile helpe it presently. God ioyn'd my heart, and Romeos, thou our hands, And ere this hand by thee to Romeo seal'd: Shall be the Labell to another Deede, Or my true heart with trecherous reuolt, Turne to another, this shall slay them both: Therefore out of thy long experien'st time, Giue me some present counsell, or behold Twixt my extreames and me, this bloody knife Shall play the vmpeere, arbitrating that, Which the commission of thy yeares and art, Could to no issue of true honour bring: Be not so long to speak, I long to die, If what thou speak'st, speake not of remedy

Fri. Hold Daughter, I doe spie a kind of hope, Which craues as desperate an execution, As that is desperate which we would preuent. If rather then to marrie Countie Paris Thou hast the strength of will to slay thy selfe, Then is it likely thou wilt vndertake A thing like death to chide away this shame, That coap'st with death himselfe, to scape fro it: And if thou dar'st, Ile giue thee remedie

Iul. Oh bid me leape, rather then marrie Paris, From of the Battlements of any Tower, Or walke in theeuish waies, or bid me lurke Where Serpents are: chaine me with roaring Beares Or hide me nightly in a Charnell house, Orecouered quite with dead mens ratling bones, With reckie shankes and yellow chappels sculls: Or bid me go into a new made graue, And hide me with a dead man in his graue, Things that to heare them told, haue made me tremble, And I will doe it without feare or doubt, To liue an vnstained wife to my sweet Loue

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