FRIAR LAWRENCE.

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 abus’d 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 LAWRENCE.

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.


 [Exit.]
JULIET.

O shut the door, and when thou hast done so,

Come weep with me, past hope, past cure, past help!


FRIAR LAWRENCE.

O 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’s seal’d,

Shall be the label to another deed,

Or my true heart with treacherous revolt

Turn to another, this shall slay them both.