You shall have none ill, sir, for I’ll try if they can lick their fingers. .Marry, sir, ’tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers. Therefore he that cannot lick his fingers goes not with me.
How canst thou try them so?
How now, my headstrong? Where have you been gadding?Send for the county. Go tell him of this. I’ll have this knot knit up tomorrow morning.
Where I have learned me to repent the sin Of disobedient opposition To you and your behests, and am enjoined By holy Lawrence to fall prostrate here To beg your pardon. Pardon, I beseech you!Henceforward I am ever ruled by you.I met the youthful lord at Lawrence' cell,And gave him what becomèd love I might,Not stepping o'er the bounds of modesty.
Tush, I will stir about,And all things shall be well, I warrant thee, wife.Go thou to Juliet, help to deck up her.I’ll not to bed tonight. Let me alone. I’ll play the housewife for this once.
We shall be short in our provision. 'Tis now near night.
—What, ho? They are all forth?—Well, I will walk myself To County Paris, to prepare him up Against tomorrow. My heart is wondrous light Since this same wayward girl is so reclaimed.