_Nurse._ Then hie you hence to Friar Laurence' cell;[713] There stays a husband to make you a wife: Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks, They'll be in scarlet straight at any news.[714] 70 Hie you to church; I must another way, To fetch a ladder, by the which your love Must climb a bird's nest soon when it is dark:[715] I am the drudge, and toil in your delight; But you shall bear the burthen soon at night. 75 Go; I'll to dinner; hie you to the cell. _Jul._ Hie to high fortune! Honest nurse, farewell. [_Exeunt._ SCENE VI. _Friar Laurence's cell._[716] _Enter_ FRIAR LAURENCE _and_ ROMEO.[717] _Fri. L._ So smile the heavens upon this holy act That after-hours with sorrow chide us not! _Rom._ Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can, It cannot countervail the exchange of joy That one short minute gives me in her sight: 5 Do thou but close our hands with holy words, Then love-devouring death do what he dare,[718] It is enough I may but call her mine.[719] _Fri. L._ These violent delights have violent ends And in their triumph die, like fire and powder[720] 10 Which as they kiss consume: the sweetest honey[721] Is loathsome in his own deliciousness[722] And in the taste confounds the appetite: Therefore, love moderately; long love doth so; Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. 15 _Enter_ JULIET. Here comes the lady. O, so light a foot Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint. A lover may bestride the gossamer[723] That idles in the wanton summer air,[723] And yet not fall; so light is vanity. 20 _Jul._ Good even to my ghostly confessor. _Fri. L._ Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both. _Jul._ As much to him, else is his thanks too much.[724] _Rom._ Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy[725] Be heap'd like mine, and that thy skill be more 25 To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue[726] Unfold the imagined happiness that both Receive in either by this dear encounter. _Jul._ Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, 30 Brags of his substance, not of ornament: They are but beggars that can count their worth; But my true love is grown to such excess,[727] I cannot sum up sum of half my wealth.[728] _Fri. L._ Come, come with me, and we will make short work; 35 For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone Till holy church incorporate two in one.[729] [_Exeunt._ FOOTNOTES: [393] ACT II. PROLOGUE. Enter Chorus. Chor.] Edd. Chorus. Qq Ff. ACT II. SCENE I. Chorus. Rowe. Enter Chorus. Theobald. [394] _in_] _on_ Pope. [395] _for which_] _which_ Steevens (1793).]