SCENE II.
A Room in Capulet's House.
Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, Nurse, and Servants.
Cap.
So many guests invite as here are writ.—
[Exit Servant.
Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks.
2 Serv.
You shall have none ill, sir; for I'll try if
they can lick their fingers.
Cap.
How canst thou try them so?
2 Serv.
Marry, sir, 'tis an ill cook that cannot lick
his own fingers: therefore, he that cannot lick his
fingers goes not with me.
Cap.
Go, begone.—
[Exit Servant.
We shall be much unfurnish'd for this time.—
What, is my daughter gone to Friar Laurence?
Nurse.
Ay, forsooth.
Cap.
Well, he may chance to do some good on her:
A peevish self-will'd harlotry it is.
Enter Juliet.
Nurse.
See, where she comes from shrift with merry look.
Cap.
How now, my headstrong! where have you been gadding?
Jul.
Where I have learn'd me to repent the sin
Of disobedient opposition4 note
-- 468 --
To you, and your behests; and am enjoin'd
By holy Laurence to fall prostrate here,
And beg your pardon.—Pardon, I beseech you:
Henceforward I am ever rul'd by you.
Cap.
Send for the County: go tell him of this.
I'll have this knot knit up to-morrow morning.
Jul.
I met the youthful lord at Laurence' cell;
And gave him what becomed love I might, 11Q0937
Not stepping o'er the bounds of modesty.
Cap.
Why, I am glad on't; this is well,—stand up:
This is as't should be.—Let me see the County:
Ay, marry, go, I say, and fetch him hither.—
Now, afore God, this reverend holy friar,
All our whole city is much bound to him.
Jul.
Nurse, will you go with me into my closet,
To help me sort such needful ornaments
As you think fit to furnish me to-morrow?
La. Cap.
No, not till Thursday: there is time enough5 note
.
Cap.
Go, nurse, go with her.—We'll to church to-morrow.
[Exeunt Juliet and Nurse.
La. Cap.
We shall be short in our provision:
'Tis now near night.
Cap.
Tush! I will stir about,
And all things shall be well, I warrant thee, wife.
Go thou to Juliet; help to deck up her:
I'll not to bed to-night;—let me alone;
I'll play the housewife for this once.—What, ho!—
They are all forth: well, I will walk myself
To county Paris, to prepare up him
Against to-morrow. My heart is wond'rous light,
Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim'd.
[Exeunt.
-- 469 --
J. Payne Collier [1842–1844], The works of William Shakespeare. The text formed from an entirely new collation of the old editions: with the various readings, notes, a life of the poet, and a history of the Early English stage. By J. Payne Collier, Esq. F.S.A. In eight volumes (Whittaker & Co. [etc.], London) [word count] [S10101].
