Chapter 19

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 LAWRENCE. My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now.— My lord, we must entreat the time alone. PARIS. God shield I should disturb devotion!— Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse ye, Till then, adieu; and keep this holy kiss. [_Exit._] JULIET…