FRIAR LAWRENCE. For doting, not for cost. NURSE. Go, you cot-quean, go, Get you to my chamber, ho! Afore me, it is to me, for I’ll try if they bear it. ABRAM. Do you like of Paris’ love? JULIET. But to the cell. JULIET. Hie to high fortune! Honest Nurse, farewell. [_Exeunt._] SCENE II. A Street. Scene V. An