18
Los Bandos de Verona.
Thy blood is mine, but yet 'tis somewhat hotter.
In me the stream is coolèd down by age;
The soul's enchantments sped. Love you in sooth
This Romeo? this traitor of Montesco's kin?
Julia.
No, my father! (hesitating). Should I say Yes: (aside)
His death will the stern forfeit be.
Henceforth, Sir, I am silent as the grave.
Old Capelete.
If thou would'st wed this Romeo, child,
My curse should follow such a mad-brain'd choice.
Come, say. 'Tis Andrés or the Count?
Julia.
Since you will have it so, my choice is made.
Old Capelete.
Good! Good! Well, the Count Paris or Andrés?
Julia.
For good or ill I love alone young Romeo.
Old Capelete.
Traitress! What! love our house's bitter foe,
Whose sword hath slain our kin? Prepare to die!
