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.