Rom. Ay, nurfe; What of that? both with an R. Nurfe. Ah, mocker! that's the dog's name. R is for the dog. No; I know it begins with fome other letter: and the hath the prettieft fentiments of it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you good to hear it. Rom. Commend me to thy lady. Nurfe. Ay, a thousand times.

Peter. Anon!

-Peter!

Nurfe. Peter, take my fan, and go before.

SCENE V. CAPULET's garden.

Enter JULIET.

[Exit

[Exeunt

Jul. The clock ftruck nine, when I did fend the
In half an hour she promis'd to return. [nurfe;
Perchance, the cannot meet him :-that's not fo.-
O, she is lame! love's heralds fhould be thoughts,
Which ten times fafter glide than the fun's 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 fun upon the highmost hill

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

My words would bandy her to my fweet love,
And his to me:

But old folks, many feign as they were dead;
Unwieldy, flow, heavy and pale as lead.

Enter Nurfe, with PETER.

O God, he comes !-O honey nurse, what news? Haft thou met with him? Send thy man away.

Nurfe

Nurfe. Peter, ftay at the gate.

[Exit PETER.

Jul. Now, good fweet nurse,-O lord! why look'st

thou fad?

Though news be fad, yet tell them merrily;
If good, thou fham'ft the mufic of fweet news
By playing it to me with fo four a face.

Nurfe. I am aweary, givé me leave a while ;-
Fie, how my bones ache! what a jaunt have I had!
Jul. I would thou hadft my bones, and I thy news:
Nay, come, I pray thee, fpeak;-good, good nurse,
speak.

Do

Nurfe. What hafte? can you not stay a while? you not fee, that I am out of breath?

Ful. How art thou out of breath, when thou hast

breath

To fay to me

-that thou art out of breath?
The excufe, that thou doft make in this delay,
Is longer than the tale thou doft excuse."
Is thy news good, or bad? anfwer 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 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 talk'd on, yet they are pat compare: He is not the flower of courtefy, but, I'll warrant him, as gentle as a lamb.-Go thy ways, wench; ferve God:-What, have you din'd at home?

Jul. No, no: But all this I did know before e; What fays he of our marriage? what of that? Nurfe. Lord, how my head aches! what a head have 1!

It

It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces.

My back o' the other fide,-O, my bak, 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 not well: Sweet, fweet, fweet nurse, tell me, what fays my love? Nurfe. Your love fays like an honeft gentleman, And a courteous, and a kind, and a handfome, and I warrant, a virtuous :-Where is your mother? Jul. Where is my mother?-why, she is within: Where should she be? How oddly thou reply'ft? Your love fays like an honeft gentlemanWhere is your mother?

Nurfe. O, God's lady dear!

Are you fo hot? Marry, come up, I trow;
Is this the poultice for my aching bones?
Henceforward do your meffages yourself.

Jul. Here's fuch a coil;-Come, what fays Romeo?
Nurfe. Have you got leave to go to fhrift to-day?
Jul. I have.

Nurfe. Then hie thee hence to friar Lawrence' cell, There stays a husband to make you a wife : Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks, They'll be in fcarlet 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 soon, when it is dark : I am the drudge, and toil in your delight; But you fhall bear the burden foon at night. Go, I'll to dinner: hie thee to the cell.

Jul. Hie to high fortune!-honeft nurse, farewel.

[Exeunt.

SCENE

SCENE VI. Friar LAWRENCE's cell.

Enter Friar LAWRENCE, und ROMEO.

Fri. So fmile the heavens upon this holy act, That after-hours with forrow chide us not!

Rom. Amen, amen! but come what forrow can, It cannot countervail the 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. Thefe violent delights have violent ends, And in their triumph, die; like fire and powder, Which, as they kifs, confume: The fweetest honey Is loathfome in his own deliciousness,

And in the taste confounds the appetite:
Therefore, love moderately; 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 everlasting flint;
A lover may beftride the goffamer
That idles in the wanton fummer air,
And yet not fall; fo light is vanity.

Jul. Good even to my ghoftly confeffor.
Fri. Romeo fhall thank thee, daughter, for us both.
Ful. As much to him, elfe 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 fweeten with thy breath
This neighbour air, and let rich mufic's tongue
Unfold the imagin'd happiness that both

Receive

Receive in either by this dear encounter.

Jul. Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, Brags of his fubftance, not of ornament:

They are but beggars that can count their worth;
But my true love is grown to fuch excefs,
I cannot fum up half my fum of wealth.

Fri. Come, come with me, and we will make fhort work;

For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone,
Till holy church incorporate two in one. [Excunt,

ACT III.

SCENE 1. Aftrect.

Enter MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, Page, and Servants.

Benvolio.

I PRAY thee, good Mercutio, let's retire;
The day is hot, the Capulets abroad,

And, if we meet, we fhall not 'fcape a brawl;
For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring.
Mer. Thou art like one of thofe fellows, that, when
he enters the confines of a tavern, claps me his fword
upon the table, and fays, God fend me no need of thee!
and, by the operation of the fecond cup, draws it on
the drawer, when, indeed, there is no need.

Ben. Am I like fuch a fellow?

Mer. Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in Italy; and as foon mov'd to be moody, and as foon moody to be mov'd.

E

Ben