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ROMEO AND JULIET. 65 

Juliet. Good even to my ghostly confessor. 

Friar Laurence. Komeo shall thank thee, daughter, 
for us both. 

Juliet. As much to him, else is his thanks too much, 

Romeo. Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy 
Be heap'd like mine and that thy skill De more 
To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath 
This neighbor air, and let rich music's tongue 
Unfold the imagin'd happiness that both 
Eeceive in either by this dear encounter. 

Juliet. Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, 
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 
I cannot sum up half my sum of wealth. 

Friar Laurence. Come, come with me, and we will make 
short work ; 
For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone 
Till holy church incorporate two in one. [_Exeimt.