O, she is lame! love's heralds should be thoughts, Of this day's journey; and from nine to twelve My words would bandy her to my sweet love, But old folks, many feign as they were dead; Enter Nurse and PETER. O God, she comes !—O honey nurse, what news? [Exit PETER. Jul. Now, good sweet nurse,-O lord! why look'st thou sad? Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily; Nurse. I am aweary, give me leave awhile ;- Jul. How art thou out of breath, when thou hast breath To say to me-that thou art out of breath? The excuse, that thou dost make in this delay, Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse. Nurse. Well, you have made a simple choice; you know not how to choose a man: Romeo! no, not he; though his face be better than any man's, yet his leg excels all men's; and for a hand, and a foot, and a body, —though they be not to be talked on, yet they are past compare. He is not the flower of courtesy,—but, I'll 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' t'other side,-O, my back, my back !— To catch my death with jaunting up and down! Nurse. O, God's lady dear! Are you so hot? Marry, come up, I trow; Jul. Here's such a coil ;-Come, what says Romeo? Nurse. 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, But you shall bear the burden soon at night. Jul. Hie to high fortune !-honest nurse, farewell. SCENE VI, [Exeunt. Friar LAURENCE's Cell. Enter Friar LAURENCE and ROMEO. Fri. So smile the heavens upon this holy act, That after-hours with sorrow chide us not! Rom. Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can, It cannot countervail the exchange of joy Fri. These violent delights have violent ends, And in the taste confounds the appetite : Enter JULIET. Here comes the lady :-O, so light a foot Jul. Good even to my ghostly confessor. Fri. Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both. Be heap'd like mine, and that thy skill be more Jul. Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, They are but beggars that can count their worth ; I cannot sum up half my sum of wealth. Fri. Come, come with me, and we will make short work; For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone, Till holy church incorporate two in one. ACT III. [Exeunt. SCENE I.-A Public Place. Enter MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, Page, and Servants. Ben. I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire; The day is hot, the Capulets abroad, And, if we meet, we shall not scape a brawl; [6] He that travels too fast is as long before he comes to the end of his journey, as he that travels slow. Precipitation produces mishap. JOHNS. [7] See King Lear, p. 88. [8] So in Antony and Cleopatra; "there's beggary in the love that can be reckoned." STEEVENS. [9] It is observed that in Italy almost all assassinations are committed during the heat of summer. JOHNSON. 13* VOL. VIII. For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring. 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 moved to be moody, and as soon moody to be moved. 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 bair more, or a hair less, in his beard, than thou hast. Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast hazel 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 bath 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 Easter? with another, for tying his new shoes with old ribband ? and yet thou wilt tutor me from quarrelling! Ben. An 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, and others. Ben. By my head, here come the Capulets. Tyb. Follow me close, for I will speak to them. Mer. And but one word with one of us? Couple it with something; make it a word and a blow. Tyb. You will find me apt enough to that, sir, if you will give me occasion. Mer. Could you not take some occasion without giving? Mer. Consort! what, dost thou make us minstrels ? an thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall make you dance. "Zounds, consort! Ben. We talk here in the public haunt of men : Either withdraw into some private place, Or reason coldly of your grievances, Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us. Mer.Men's eyes were made to look, and let then gaze; I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I. Enter ROMEO. Tyb.Well,peace be with you, sir! here comes my man. But love thee better than thou canst devise, Mer. O calm, dishonourable, vile submission ! Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk? Tyb. What would'st thou have with me? [Draws Mer. Good king of cats, nothing, but one of your nine lives; that I mean to make bold withal, and, as you shall use me hereafter, dry-beat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pilcher by the ears ?3 make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out. Tyb. I am for you. [Drawing. Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up. [They fight. Beat down their weapons :-Gentlemen, for shame The prince expressly hath forbid this bandying [Exe. TYBALT, and his Partizans. [1] Stoccata-the Italian term for a thrust or stab with a rapier. STEEV. [2] Alluding to his name. MALONE. [3] We should read pilche, which signifies a cloak or coat of skins, meaning the scabbard. WARBURTON, |