Friar.
On Thursday!

Paris.
Capulet that day does name;
And I can't put it off, of course, for shame.

Friar.
'Tis much too early, and besides I'll bet
My ears, you know not if she like you yet.

Paris.
For Tibalt's murder such a fuss she's making,
And always seems in such a tristful taking,
That, as for love, I cant say much about it:— Enter Juliet.
Here comes my wife that will be.

Juliet.
Sir, I doubt it.

Paris.
Indeed you will, on Thursday next, I wot.

Juliet.
I can't tell yet whether I shall or not.

Paris.
Come you to make confession to the Friar?

Juliet.
What if I do? what right have you t' inquire?
Are you at leisure, priest? If not, at Mass
This night, I'll come to you.

Friar.
No, stay, my lass. (To Paris.)
—Sir, to be off I beg you'll make a motion.

Paris
To mar your tete-a-tete I have no notion. [Exit.

Juliet.
Go, shut the door, my grief I can't endure;
I'll cry my eyes out, for I'm past all cure.

Friar.
Why I know all the secret.

Juliet.
Pray don't chatter.
Unless you'll tell one how to mend the matter;
If not, this instant, life for death I'll barter,
And quickly do my business with this garter.

Friar.
Hold, you don't seem to mind death a rope's end;
Therefore there's comfort yet you may depend;

For surely you'll dare any thing much rather
Than play the suicide?

Juliet.
Yes, reverend Father;
For Romeo's sake I'd leap from yonder tower,
Aye, or the topmast of a seventy-four;
He is my bosom's rightful lord and master.

Friar.
Peace! on thy mind's wound soon I'll put a plaister;
Get home as fast as possible,—seem merry;
And keep your spirits up with Port or Sherry;
Then say you'll marry Paris; but take care
The Nurse lies not at bed-time where you are:
When all is still and quiet, drink this liquor, (Producing a Bladder.)
Which through your youthful veins will run much quicker
Than Horses at a race; at first 'twill frolick
About your stomach, and bring on the cholick;
Then will your breath stop, and your heart cease beating;
Your face and lips will turn as white as sheeting;
Your eyes will close, as if Death pinned them down,
And you will seem quite dead. I'll wage a crown,
The trick will do: In two and forty hours
You'll wake as from a dream.

Juliet.
Oh! by the powers
I'll drink!

Friar.
Now when the bridegroom in the morn
Shall come, with marriage-favors to adorn

Thy bridal cap, there art thou dead as mutton;
Then all thy kindred dolorous black will put on,
And to the burying ground with you will trot:
Meantime, I'll write to Romeo all the plot;
Begging he'll ride post-haste: Then he and I
Will wake you, and to Mantua you shall fly.

Juliet.
Thy scheme is dangerous; nothing can be madder;
Howe'er, I'll try it; so give me the bladder. (Takes the Bladder.)

Friar.
Now, Mrs. Montague, begone, you'd better:
I'll send old Jack to Romeo with a letter.

Juliet.
Farewell! with you and Romeo, Father dear,
I hope ere long to drink a mug of Beer;
'Tis cheaper far at Mantua than 'tis here. [Exeunt.

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