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102 ROMEO AND JULIET. Enter Juliet. Paris. Happily met, my lady and m}^ 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 Laurence. 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 you, I am sure, that you love me. Jidiet. 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 tliat re- port. 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 Laurence. My leisure serves me, pensive daugh- tei', now. — My lord, we mast entreat the time alone.