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She'd be as swift in motion as a ball;
My words would bandy her to my sweet love,
And his to me;
But old folks, marry, feign as they were dead,
Unwieldy, flow, heavy, and pale, as lead.

Enter Nurse, with Peter,

O good, she comes. O honey Nurse, what news ? Halt thou met with him? send thy man away.

Nurse. Peter, stay at the gate. (Exit Peter.

Jul. Now, good sweet Nurse,
O Lord, why look'st thou sad?
Tho' news be fad, yet tell them merrily :
If good, thou sham'st the musick of fweet news,
By playing 't to' me with so four a face.

Nurse. I am a weary, let me rest a while;
Fy, how my bones ake, what a jaunt have I had ?
Jul. I would, thou hadst my bones, and I thy

news! Nay, come, 'I pray thee, speak-Good, good nurse,

speak.
Nurse. What haste? Can you not stay a while ?
Do you not see, that I am out of breath?
Jal. How art thou out of breath, when thou haft

breath
To say to me, that thou art out of breath?
Th’ Excuse, that thou doft make in this delay,
Is longer than the Tale thou dost excuse.
Is thy news good or bad ? answer to that ;
Say either, and I'll stay the circumstance:
Let me be satisfied. Ts’t good or bad ?

Nurse. Well, you have made a simple choice ; you know not how to chufe a man : Romeo, no, not he ; though his face be better than any man's, yet his legs excel all men's; and for a hand, and a foot, and a body, tho' they be not to be talk'd on, yet they are 8

past

past compare. He is not the lower of courtesy, but I warrant him, as gentle as a lamb-Go thy ways, wench, serve God What, have you dined at home?

Jul. No, no. But all this did I know before : What says he of our marriage? What of that ? Nurse. Lord, how my head akes ! what a head

have I? It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces. My back o’th other side my back, my back: Beshrew your heart, for sending me about To catch my death with jaunting up and down.

Jul. I 'faith, I am sorry that thou art fo ill. * Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love?

Nurse. Your love says like an honest gentleman, And a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, And, I warrant, a virtuous – where is your mother?

Jul. Where is my mother ?--why, she is within; Where should she be? how odly thou reply'st ! Your love says like an honest gentleman :Where is your mother?

Nurse. Are you so hot ? marry, come up, I trow, Is this the poultice for my aking bones ? Hence-forward do your messages yourself. Jul. Here's such a coil. Come, what says Ra

meo? Nurse. Have you got leave to go to shrift to-day? Jul. I have,

Nurse. Then hie you hence to friar Laurence cell,
There stays a husband to make you a wife.
Now comes the wanton blood

up your cheeks,
They'll be in scarlet ftraight at any news.
Hie you to church, I must another way,
To fetch a ladder, by the which your love
Must climb a bird's-neft foon, when it is dark.
I am the drudge and toil in your delight,
But you shall bear the burden soon at night.

in

Go,

Go, I'll to dinner, hie you to the cell. Jul, Hie to high fortune ?honest nurse, fare. wel.

[Exeunt.

S. CE N E VI.

Changes to the Monastery.

Fri:

Enter Friar Lawrence, and Romeo,
Fri. O smile the heavens upon this holy A&,

That after-hours with forrow chide us not !
Rom. Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can,
It cannot countervail th’ exchange of joy,
That one short minute gives me in her sight:
Do thou but close our hands with holy words,
Then love-devouring death do what he dare,
It is enough, I may but call her mine.

Fri. These violent delights have violent ends, And in their triumph die; like fire and powder, Which, as they meet, consume. The sweetest honey Is loathsome in its own deliciousness, And in the taste confounds the appetite ; Therefore love mod’rately, long love doth fo. 3 Too swift arrives as tardy as too Now.

Enter Juliet. 11

Here comes the lady. O, so light a foot
Will ne'er wear out the everlasting fint;
A lover may bestride the gossamer
That idles in the wanton summer air,
And yet not fall, so light is vanity.

Jul. Good even to my ghostly Confeffor.

7 To9 fuift arrives]. He that ney, as he that travels flow. travels too fast is as long before Precipitation produces mishap. he comes to the end of his jour.

Fri. Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both.
Jul. As much to him, else are his thanks too

much.
Rom. Ah! Juliet, if the measure of thy joy
Be heap'd like mine, and that thy skill be more
To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath
This neighbour air ; and let rich musick's tongue
Unfold th' imagin'd happiness, that both
Receive in either, by this dear encounter.

Jul. Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,
Brags of his substance, not of ornament:
They are but beggars, that can count their worth
But my true love is grown to such Excess,
I cannot sum up sums of half my wealth.

Fri. Come, come with me, and we will make short

work ;

For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone,
'Till Holy Church incorp'rațe two in one. [Exeunt.

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BENVOLIO.
Pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire ;

* The day is hot, the Capulets abroad;
And, if we meet, we shall not ’scape a brawl ;
For now these hot days is the mad blood stirring.

* The day is hot,] It is observed tions are committed during the than in Italy almost all affaslina. heat of summer.

Mer.

"Mer. Thou art like one of those fellows, that, when he enters the 'confines of a tavern, claps me his sword upon

the table, and says, God send me no need of thee! and, by the operation of the second cup, draws it on the Drawer, when, indeed, there is no need.

Ben. Am I like such a fellow? Mer. Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in Italy; and as soon mov'd to be moody, and as soon moody to be mov'd.

Ben. And what to?

Mer. Nay, an' there were two such, we should have none shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more, pr a hair less, in his beard, than thou haft. Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast hasel eyes; what eye, but such an eye, would spy out such a quarrel ? Thy head is as full of quarrels, as an egg is full of meat; and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg, for quarrelling. Thou hast quarrelled with a man for coughing in the street, because he hath wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the Sun. Didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet before Eafter? with another, for tying his new shoes with old ribband? and yet thou wilt tutor me for quarrelling;

Ben. If I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man should buy the fee-simple of my life for an hour and a quarter.

Mer. The fee-simple ? O simple !

Enter Tybalt, Petruchio, and others.

Ben. By my head, here come the Capulets.
Mer. By my heel, I care not.

Tyb. Follow me close, for I will speak to them. Gentlemen, good-den, a word with one of you.

Mer.

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