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ACT IV SCENE I . Friar Lawrence’s Cell . Enter Friar Lawrence and Paris . FRIAR LAWRENCE . On Thursday , sir ? The time is very short . PARIS . My father Capulet will have it so ; And I am nothing slow to slack his haste . FRIAR LAWRENCE . You say you do not know the lady’s mind . Uneven is the course ; I like it not . PARIS . Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt’s death , And therefore have I little talk’d of love ; For Venus smiles not in a house of tears . Now , sir , her father counts it dangerous That she do 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 LAWRENCE . [ Aside . ] I would I knew not why it should be slow’d . — Look , sir , here comes the lady toward my cell . Enter Juliet . 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 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 .
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