Imatges de pàgina
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skains-mates. And thou must stand by too, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure ? [To her man.

Pet. I faw no man ufe you at his pleasure: if I had, my weapon fhould quickly have been out, I warrant you. I dare draw as foon as another man, if I fee occafion in a good quarrel, and the law on my fide.

Nurfe. Now, afore God, I am fo vext, that every. part about me quivers- Scurvy knave! Pray you, Sir, a word and as I told you, my young lady bid me enquire you out; what the bid me fay, I will keep to my felf: but first let me tell ye, if ye fhould lead her into a fool's paradife, as they fay, it were a very grofs kind of behaviour, as they fay, for the gentlewoman is young; and therefore if you fhould deal double with her, truly, it were an ill thing to be offered to any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing.

Rom. Commend me to thy lady and mistress, I proteft unto thee

Nurfe. Good heart, and, i'faith, I will tell her as much: Lord, lord, she will be a joyful woman..

Rom. What wilt thou tell her, nurfe? thou dost not mark me.

Nurse. I will tell her, Sir, that you do protest; which, as I take it, is a gentleman-like offer.

.

Rom. Bid her devife fome means to come to fhrift

this afternoon;

And there she shall at friar Lawrence' Cell

Be fhriv'd and married: here is for thy pains.
Nurfe. No, truly, Sir, not a penny.

Rom.. Go to, I fay, you fhall.

Nurfe. This afternoon, Sir? well, fhe fhall be there. Rom. And ftay, good nurfe, behind the abby-wall : Within this hour my man shall be with thee,

And bring thee cords, made like a tackled stair,
Which to the high top-gallant of my joy

Must be my convoy in the fecret night.
Farewel, be trufty, and I'll quit thy pains.

Nurfe. Now, God in heav'n blefs thee! hark you, Sir.
Rom. What fayeft thou, my dear nurse?

Nurfe. Is your man fecret? did you ne'er hear say,

Twe

Two may keep counfel, putting one away?

Rom. I warrant thee, my man's as true as steel. Nurfe. Well, Sir, my miftrefs is the sweetest lady; lord, lord! when 'twas a little prating thing-0,there is a noble man in town, one Paris, that would fain lay knife aboard; but fhe, good foul, had as lieve fee a toad, a very toad, as fee him: I anger her fometimes, and tell her, that Paris is the properer man ;. but I'll warrant you, when I say so, fhe looks as pale as any clout in the varfal world. Doth not Rosemary and Romeo begin both with a letter.

Rom. Ay, nurfe, what of that? both with an R. (8) Nurfe. Ah, mocker! that's the dog's name. R. is for Thee? No; I know, it begins with another letter; and the hath the prettieft fententious of it, of you and rofemary, that it would do you good to hear it. Rom. Commend me to thy lady

[Exit Rom.

(8) Rom. Ay, Nurfe, what of That? Both with an R.

Nurfe. Ab mocker! that's the Dog's Name. R. is for the no, I know it begins with no other Letter,] I believe, I have rectified this odd Stuff; but it is a little mortifying, that the Senfe, when 'tis found out, fhould hardly be worth the pains of retrieving it. The Nurfe is reprefented as a prating filly Creature; She fays, She will tell Romeo a good Joke about his Mistress, and asks him, whether Rosemary and Romeo do not begin both with a Letter: He fays, Yes, an R. She, who, we must fuppofe, could not read, thought he had mock'd her, and fays, No, fure, I know better: our Dog's name is R. Yours begins with another Letter. This is natural enough, and very much in Character for this infipid prating Creature. R. put her in mind of that Sound which is made by Dogs when they fnarl: and therefore, I prefume, she says, that is the Dog's Name. A Quotation from Ben Johnson's Alchemist will clear up this Allufion.

He fball bave a Bell, that's Abel;
And, by it, ftanding One whofe Name is D

In a rug Gown; there's D and rug, that's Drug;
And right anenft bim a dog snarling,-
There's Drugger, Abel Drugger,

err;

Mr. Warburton.

Nurfe.

Nurfe. Ay, a thousand times. Peter,-
Pet. Anon?

Nurfe. Take my fan, and go before.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to Capulet's Houfe.

ful. T

1 Enter Juliet.

HE clock ftruck nine, when I did fend the nurfe :

In half an hour she promis'd to return.

Perchance, the cannot meet him- That's not fo
Oh, fhe is lame: love's heralds fhould be thoughts,
Which ten times fafter glide than the fun-beams,
Driving back fhadows over lowring hills.
Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love,
And therefore hath the wind-fwift Cupid wings.
Now is the Sun upon the highmoft hill

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Of this day's journey; and from nine 'till twelve
Is three long hours - and fhe is not come ;
yet
Had the affections and warm youthful blood,
She'd be a. fwift in motion as a ball;

My words would bandy her to my sweet love,
And his to me;

Enter Nurfe, with Peter.

O God, fhe comes. O honey Nurse, what news?
Haft thou met with him? fend thy man away.
Nurfe. Peter, ftay at the gate.

Jul. Now, good fweet Nurfe,
O lord, why look'st thou fad?

Tho' news be fad, yet tell them merrily:

[Exit Peter.

If good, thou sham'ft the mufick of sweet news,
By playing 't to me with fo fowre a face.
Nurfe. I am a weary, let me rest a while;

Fy, how my bones ake, what a jaunt have I had?
Jul. I would, thou hadft my bones, and I thy news!
Nay, come, I pray thee, speak. -Good, good nurse,

speak.

Nurse.

1

Nurfe. Jefu! what hafte? Can you not stay a while? Do you not fee, that I am out of breath?

ful. How art thou out of breath, when thou haft breath

To fay to me, that thou art out of breath?

Th' Excufe, that thou doft make in this delay,
Is longer than the Tale thou doft excuse.
Is thy news good or bad? answer to that;
Say either, and I'll stay the circumstance :
Let me be fatisfied, is't good or bad?

Nurfe. Well, you have made a fimple 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 paft compare. He is not the flower of courtefie, but, I warrant him, as gentle as a lamb Go thy ways, wench, What, have you dined at home?

ferve God.

Jul. No, no - but all this did I know before: What fays he of our marriage? what of that? Nurfe. Lord, how my head akes! what a head have I? It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces.

My back o' th' other fide

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O my back, my back: Befhrew your heart, for fending me about To catch my death with jaunting up and down. Jul. I'faith, I am forry that thou art fo ill.. Sweet, sweet, fweet nurfe, tell me, what fays my love? Nurfe. Your love fays like an honeft 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 fays like an honeft gentleman:

Where is your mother?

Nurfe. O, God's lady dear,

-

Are you fo hot? marry come up, I trow,
Is this the poultis for my aking bones ?
Hence-forward do your meffages your felf.

Jul. Here's fuch a coil; come, what fays Romeo?
Nurse. Have you got leave to go to shrift to day?

Jul.

Jul. I have.

Nurfe. Then hie you hence to friar Laurence' cell,
There stays a husband to make you a wife.
Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks,
They'll be in fcarlet straight at any news.
Hie you to church, I must another way,
To fetch a ladder, by the which your love
Muft climb a bird's-neft foon, when it is dark.
I am the drudge and toil in your delight,
But you fhall bear the burthen soon at night.
Go, I'll to dinner, hie you to the cell.
Jul. Hie to high fortune;

honeft nurse, farewel. [Exeunt.

SCENE changes to the Monastery.

Enter Friar Lawrence, and Romeo.

Fri. So
ST

O fmile the heav'ns upon this holy Act,
That after-hours with forrow chide us not!
Rom. Amen, amen! but come what forrow can,
It cannot countervail th' exchange of joy,
That one fhort minute gives me in her fight:
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, confume. The sweetest honey
Is loathfome in its own deliciousness,

And in the tafte confounds the appetite;
Therefore love mod'rately, long love doth fo:
Too fwift arrives as tardy as too flow.

Enter Juliet.

Here comes the lady. O, fo light a foot
Will ne'er wear out the everlafting flint;
A lover may bestride the goffamour,
That idles in the wanton fummer air,
And yet not fall, fo light is vanity.

Jul. Good even to my ghoftly Confeffor.

Fri.

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