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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.

Nurse. Well, sir, my mistress is the sweetest lady: lord, lord, when 'twas a little prating thing-Oh, there is 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.

Rom. Commend me to thy lady--[Exit Romeo.
Nurse. A thousand times. Peter!
Pet. Anon.
Nurse. Take my fan, and go before. [Exeunt.


CAPULET's House.


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 som Oh, she is lame; love's heralds should be thoughts, Which ten times faster glide than the sun-beams, Driving back shadows over low'ring hills. Therefore do nimble pinion'd doves draw love, And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings. Now is the sun upon the highmost hill Of this day's journey, and from nine till twelve

Is three long hours--and yet she is not come;
Had she affections and warm youthful blood,
She'd be as swift in motion as a ball;
My words would bandy her to my sweet love,
And his to me.

Enter NURSE.
O Heav'n! here she comes. O honey Nurse, what

news? Hast thou met with him?

Nurse. I am a-weary, give me leave awhile:
Fie, how my bones ache, what a jaunt have I had!
Jul. Nay, come, I pray thee speak—Good, good

Nurse, speak.
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 chuse a man:-- -What, have you dined at home ?

Jul. No, 10—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:
Beshrew your heart, for sending me about,
To catch my death, with jaunting up and down.

Jul. l'faith, I'm sorry that thou art so ill;
Sweet, sweet, sweet Nurse,' tell


what Nurse, Your love says, like an honest gentleman, And a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, And I warrant a virtuous- -where is


mother? Jul. Where is my mother? why, she is within, Where should she be? how oddly thou repliest ? “ Your love says, like an honest gentleman: “ Where is your

mother? Nurse. Oh, our lady dear!

says my love.


Are you so hot ? marry, come up! I trow.
Is this the poultice for my aching bones ?
Henceforward do your messages yourself.
Jul. Here's a coil; come, what says

Romeo ? Nurse. Have you got leave to go to shrift to-day? Jul. I have.

Nurse. Then hie you hence, to Friar Lawrence'cell, There stays a husband, to make you a wife. 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. Go, I'll to dinner, hie you to the cell. Jul. Hie to high fortune: honest Nurse, farewell.




The Monastery.
Enter Friar LAWRENCE and ROMEC
Fri. So smile the heav'ns upon this holy act,
That after hours of sorrow chide us not !

Rom. Amen, amen; but come what sorrow can,
It cannot countervail th' exchange of joy,
That one short minute gives me in her sight.
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, consume. The sweetest honey
Is loathsome in its own deliciousness,
And in the taste confounds the appetite:
Therefore love moderately.

[Erit Romeo. Here comes the lady. Oh so light a foot Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint A lover may bestride the gossamer

That idles in the wanton summer air,
And yet not fall, so light is vanity.

Enter Romeo and JULIET.
Jul. Good even to my ghostly confessor.
Fri. Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both.

Rom. Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy Be heap'd like mine, and that thy skill be more To blazon it; then sweeten with thy breath This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue Unfold the imagin'd happiness, that both Receive in either, by this dear encounter.

Jul, Conceit, more, rich in matter than in words, Brags of his substance, not of ornament: They are but beggars, that can count their worth ; But my true love is grown to such excess, I cannot sum up one half of my wealth.

Fri. Come, come with me; For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone, Till holy church incorporate two in one. [Exeunt.



The Street.

Enter MERCUTIO and Benvol10.

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.



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 a 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; 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 head than thou hast: thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other reason, but because thou hast hazel eyes; 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 taylor, for wearing his new doublet before Easter with another, for tying his new shoes with old ribband? and yet thou wilt tutor me for quarrelling!

Ben. If 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.

Ben. By my head, here come the Capulets.
Mer. By my heel, I care not.

Tib. Be near at hand, 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 something; make it a word and a blow.

Tib. You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, if you will give me occasion.

Mer. Could you not take some occasion, without giving?

T'ib. Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo.

Mer. Consort? what, dost thou make us minstrels ? if thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing


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