aboard; but the, 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
fay fo, the looks as pale as any clout in the varfal world.
Doth not rofemary and Romeo begin both with a letter?
Rom. Ay, nurfe, what of that? both with an R.
Nurfe. Ah, mocker! that's the dog's name,
R. is not
for thee, I know it begins with fome other 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
Nurfe. A thousand times. Peter!

Pet. Anon.

Nurfe. Take my fan, and go before.

[Exit Romeo.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V. Capulet's Houfe.
Enter Juliet.

Jul. The clock ftruck nine, when I did fend the nurse : In half an hour fhe promis'd to return.

Perchance the cannot meet him That's not fo-
Oh, the 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 fun upon the highmoft hill

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

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

Enter Nurfe, with Peter.

O God, fhe comes. What news?

Haft thou met with him? fend thy man away.

Nurse. Peter, ftay at the gate.

Jul. Now, good sweet nurse.

O Lord, why look'ft thou fad?

Nurfe. I am a weary, let me reft a while;

[Exit Peter.

Fy, how my bones ake, what a jaunt have I had!
Jul. I would thou hadft my bones, and I thy news:
D 2

Nay

Good nurse, speak.

Nay come, I pray thee speak
Nurfe. Give me fome Aqua vita.

Jul Is thy news good or bad? answer to that;
Say either, and I'll flay the circumftance :

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 méns, 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, ferve God What, have you dined

at home?

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 a t'other fide O my back, my back:
Befhrew your heart, for fending me about,
To catch my death with jaunting up and down.
Jul. 'faith, I am forry that thou art fo ill.

Sweet, fweet, fweet nurse, tell me, what fays my love?
Nurse. 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, the is within;
Where fhould the be? how odly thou reply'ft
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 2.
Nurfe. Have you got leave to go to fhrift to-day?
Jul. I have.

Nurfe. Then hie you hence to friar Lawrence' cell,
There ftays a husband to make you a wife.
Now comes the wanton blood up in your checks, #
They'll be in fcarlet ftraitway at my news.

Hie you to church, I muft 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 foon at night.
Go, I'll to dinner, hie you to the cell.

Jul. Hie to high fortune; honeft nurfe, farewel! [Exeunt, BAS CENE VI. The Monaftery.

Enter Friar Lawrence and Romeo.

Fri. So 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 clofe 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 meet confume. The sweetest honey
Is loathfome in its own delicioufnefs,

And in the taste confounds the appetite :
Therefore love mod'rately, long love doth fo:
Too swift 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 beftride 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. Romeo fhall thank thee, daughter, for us both.
Jul. As much to him, elfe are his thanks too much,
Rom. Ah! Juliet, if the measure of thy joy

Be heapt like mine, and that thy skill be more
To blazon it; then sweeten with thy breath
This neighbour air, and let rich mufick'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,

D3

Brage

Brags of his fubftance, not of ornament: 97

They are but beggars that can count their worth,d birort But my true love is grown to fuch excefs,

TOTTOME I cannot fum up one half of my wealth. ad T M Fri. Come, come with me, and we will make short work, For, by your leaves, you fhall not stay alone, m

'Till holy church incorp'rate two in one.

[Exeunt.

@ Jollof Jer A C T III. SCENE 1 susiskoɔɔ The Street.

Enter Mercutio, Benvolio, and Servants, promont

Ben. Pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire,
The day is hot, the Capulets abroad,

And if we meet, we fhall not 'fcape a brawl;200
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 fword upon the table, and fays, God fend me no need of thee! and by the operation of a fecond cup, draws it on the drawer, when indeed there is no need.

Ben. Am I like fuch a fellow?

i

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.

Ben. And what to?

Mer. Nay, an there were two fuch, we fhould have none fhortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why, thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more, or a hair lefs in his beard than thou haft: thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other reason, but because thou hast hafel eyes; what eye, but fuch an eye, would fpy out fuch a quarrel? thy head is as full of quar rels, as an egg is full of meat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg for quarrelling thou hast quar. rel'd with a man for coughing in the ftreet, because he hath wakened thy dog that hath lain afleep in the fun. Didft thou not fall out with a taylor for wearing his new doublet before Eafter? with another, for tying his new fhoes with old ribband and yet thou wilt tutor me for quarrelling!

:

Ben

Ben. If I were fo apt to quarrel as thou art, any mari fhould buy the fee-fimple of my life for an hour and a quarter.

Mer. The fee-fimple ? O fimple!

dow frodox Enter Tybalt, and others. Ben. By my head, here come the Capulets. Mer. By my heel, I care not.

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

Mer. And but one word with one of us? couple it with fomething, make it a word and a blow

Tyb. You fhall find me apt enough to that, Sir, if you will give me occafion.

Mer. Could you not take fome occafion without giving? Tyb. Mercutio, thou confort'ft with Romeo

3. Mer. Confort! what, doft thou make us minstrels? if thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but difcords: here's my fiddleftick; here's that fhall make you dance. Zounds! confort! [Laying his band on bis fword. Ben. We talk here in the publick haunt of men : Either withdraw unto fome private place,

Or reafon coldly of your grievances,

Or elfe depart here all eyes gaze on us.

Mer. Mens eyes were made to look, and let them gaze j I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.

Enter Romeo.

Tyb. Well, peace be with you, Sir, here comes my man.
Mer. But I'll be hang'd, Sir, if he wear your livery:
Marry go first to field, he'll be your follower,
Your Worship in that fenfe may call him man.
Tyb. Romeo, the love I bear thee can afford
No better term than this; thou art a villain.
Rom. Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee
Doth much excufe the appertaining rage
To fuch a greeting: villain I am none,
Therefore farewel, I fee thou know'ft me not,
Tyb. Boy, this fhall not excufe the injuries

That thou haft done me, therefore turn and draw,
Rom. I do protest I never injur'd thee,
But love thee better that thou canst devise,