my heart; and ſuch is my weakneſs, that, on this occaſion, I rather played the part of a gallant, than the character of a young lady who was fearful of acting contrary to her duty.
Celia.
Take care of yourſelf, you are undone if you give yourſelf up to the paſſion which I perceive ariſing in your heart. This young man, ſo worthy of being loved, is Romeo, Madam; the ſon of Fabricius, the ſworn enemy of your name and family.
Juliet.
What a misfortune! Tell me no more of it. Juſt Heavens!
Celia.
It is better to acquaint you with it now, than to ſuffer you to engage yourſelf further. Advice would come too late, when your paſſion from time had gained greater hold.
Juliet.
It has already taken too deep root, and I feel my flame redouble its violence from the diſtance which the enmity of our parents places between us. What have I done, wretch that I am? I have given my hand to Romeo during the ball; I have repaid his declaration of love with the moſt flattering hopes! But how did he preſume to enter this houſe?
