_Cap_: Gods blessed mother wife it mads me, Day, night, early, late, at home, abroad, Alone, in company, waking or sleeping, Still my care hath beene to see her matcht. And hauing now found out a Gentleman, 140 Of Princely parentage, youthfull, and nobly trainde. Stuft as they say with honorable parts, Proportioned as ones heart coulde wish a man: And then to haue a wretched whyning foole, A puling mammet in her fortunes tender, 145 To say I cannot loue, I am too young, I pray you pardon mee? But if you cannot wedde Ile pardon you. Graze where you will, you shall not house with me. Looke to it, thinke out, I doe not vse to iest. I tell yee what, Thursday is neere, 150 Lay hand on heart, aduise, bethinke your selfe, If you be mine, Ile giue you to my frend: If not, hang, drowne, starue, beg, Dye in the streetes: for by my Soule Ile neuer more acknowledge thee, 155 Nor what I haue shall euer doe thee good, Thinke ont, looke toot, I doe not vse to iest. _Exit._ _Iul_: Is there no pitty hanging in the cloudes, That lookes into the bottom of my woes? I doe beseech you Madame, cast me not away, 160 Defer this mariage for a day or two, Or if you cannot, make my mariage bed In that dimme monument where _Tybalt_ lyes. _Moth_: Nay be assured I will not speake a word. Do what thou wilt for I haue done with thee. _Exit._ 165 _Iul_: Ah Nurse what comfort? what counsell canst thou giue me. _Nur_: Now trust me Madame, I know not what to say: Your _Romeo_ he is banisht, and all the world to nothing He neuer dares returne to challendge you. Now I thinke good you marry with this County, Oh he is a gallant Gentleman, R_omeo_ is but a dishclout In respect of him. I promise you I thinke you happy in this second match. As for your husband he is dead: Or twere as good he were, for you haue no vse of him. 175 _Iul_: Speakst thou this from thy heart? _Nur_: I and from my soule, or els beshrew them both. _Iul_: Amen. _Nur_: What say you Madame? _Iul_: Well, thou hast comforted me wondrous much, 180 I pray thee goe thy waies vnto my mother Tell her I am gone hauing displeasde my Father. To Fryer _Laurence_ Cell to confesse me, And to be absolu'd. _Nur_: I will, and this is wisely done. 185 _She lookes after Nurse._