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96 ROMEO AND JULIET. How ! will she none ? doth she not give us thanks ? Is she not proud ? doth she not count her blest, Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom ? Juliet. Not proud you have, but thankful that you have : Proud can I never be of what I hate ; But thankful even for hate that is meant love. Caindet. How now, how now, chop-logic ! What is this ? ' Proud ' and ' I thank you ' and ' I thank you not/ And yet ' not proud ' ! Mistress minion, you. Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds, P)ut fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next, To go with Paris to Saint Peter's Church, Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither. Out, you green-sickness carrion ! out, you baggage ! You tallow-face ! Lady Capidet. Fie, fie ! what, are you mad ? Juliet. Good father, I beseech you on my knees. Hear me with patience but to speak a word. Capulet. Hang thee, young baggage ! disobedient wretch ! I tell thee what : get thee to church o' Thursday, Or never after look me in the face. Speak not, reply not, do not answer me ; My lingers itch. — Wife, we scarce thought us blest
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