Be shriv'd, and married. Here is for thy pains. Rom. Go to; I say, you shall. Nurse. This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there. Rom. And stay, good nurse, behind the abbey-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 secret night. Farewell!-Be trusty, and I'll quit thy pains. Farewell!-Commend me to thy mistress. Nurse. Now God in heaven bless thee!--Hark you, sir. Rom. What say'st thou, my dear nurse? Nurse. Is your man secret? Did you ne'er hear sayTwo may keep counsel, putting one away? Rom. I warrant thee; my man's as true as steel. Nurse. Well, sir, my mistress is the sweetest lady→→ Lord, lord!—when 'twas a little prating thing,-O, there's a nobleman in town, one Paris, that would fain lay knife aboard; but she, good soul, had as lieve see a toad, a very toad, as see him. I anger her sometimes, and tell her that Paris is the properer man; but, I'll warrant you, when I say so, she looks as pale as any clout in the varsal world. Doth not rosemary and Romeo begin both with a letter? Rom. Ay, nurse; what of that? both with an R. Nurse. Ah, mocker! that's the dog's name. R is for the dog. No; I know it begins with some other letter: and she hath the prettiest sententious of it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you good to hear it. Rom. Commend me to thy lady. Nurse. Ay, a thousand times.--Peter! Pet. Anon! [Exit. Nurse. Peter, take my fan, and go before. [Exeunt. SCENE V. CAPULET'S Garden. Enter JULIET. Jul. The clock struck nine, when I did send the nurse; In half an hour she promis'd to return. Perchance, she cannot meet him:-that's not so.-- Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams, Of this day's journey; and from nine till 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 a weary, give me leave awhile;— Nurse. Jesu! What haste? Can you not stay awhile? Do you not see that I am out of breath? [breath Jul. How art thou out of breath, when thou hast 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. Is thy news good, or bad? answer to that; Say either, and I'll stay the circumstance: Let me be satisfied, Is't good or bad? 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 mens; 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 aches! 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!— Where is your mother? Nurse. 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, They'll be in scarlet straight 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 nest soon, when it is dark: I am the drudge, and toil in your delight; But you shall bear the burden soon at night. Go, I'll to dinner; hie you to the cell. Jul. Hie to high fortune!-honest nurse, farewell. [Exeunt SCENE VI. FRIAR LAURENCE'S Cell. Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and ROMEO. Rom. Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can, Fri. These violent delights have violent ends, And in their triumph die; like fire and powder, Which, as they kiss, consume: The sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness, 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. [work; Fri. Come, come with me, and we will make short For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone, [Exeunt. SCENE I. A public Place. Enter MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, Page, and Servants. And, if we meet, we shall not 'scape a brawl; Mer. Thou art like one of those fellows, that, when be 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 hair 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, |