I dare draw as soon as another man, if I fee occafion in a good quarrel, and the law on my fide.

Nurfe. Now, afore God, I am fo vex'd, that every part about me quivers. Scurvy knave!-Pray you, fir, a word: and as I told you, my young lady bade me inquire you out; what the bade me fay, I will keep to myself: but first let me tell ye, if ye fhould lead her into a fool's paradise, as they say, it were a very grofs kind of behaviour, as they fay: for the gentlewoman is young; and, therefore, if you should deal double with her, truly, it were an ill thing to be offered to any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing.

Rom. Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress. I protest unto thee,—

Nurfe. Good heart! and, i' faith, I will tell her as much: Lord, lord, fhe will be a joyful woman.

Rom. What wilt thou tell her, nurfe? thou dost not mark me.

Nurse. I will tell her, fir,—that you do protest; which, as I take it, is a gentlemanlike offer.

Rom. Bid her devife fome means to come to shrift

This afternoon;

And there she shall at Friar Laurence' cell

Be fhriv'd, and married. Here is for thy pains.
Nurfe. No, truly, fir; not a penny.

Rom. Go to; I fay, you shall.

Nurfe. This afternoon, fir? 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 ftair;
Which to the high top-gallant of my joy
Must be my convoy in the fecret night.
Farewell!-Be trufty, and I'll quit thy pains.
Farewell!-Commend me to thy mistress.

Nurfe.

Nurse. Now God in heaven bless thee!-Hark you, fir. Rom. What fay'ft thou, my dear nurse ?

Nurse. Is your man secret? Did you ne'er hear fay— Two may keep counfel, putting one away?

Rom. I warrant thee; my man's as true as steel.

Nurfe. Well, fir; my mistress is the sweetest ladyLord, lord!—when 'twas a little prating thing,—0,— there's a nobleman in town, one Paris, that would fain lay knife aboard; but fhe, 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 rosemary and Romeo begin both with a letter?

Rom. Ay, nurfe; 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 fome other letter: and she hath the prettieft fententious 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?

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

[Exit.

[Exeunt.

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

Perchance, the cannot meet him :-that's not fo.-
O, she is lame! love's heralds should be thoughts,
Which ten times faster glide than the iun's beams,

Driving

Driving back shadows 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 warn youthful blood,
She'd be as fwift in motion as a ball;

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

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

Enter Nurfe and PETER.

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

Nurfe. Peter, stay at the gate.

[Exit PETER.

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

fad?

Though news be fad, yet tell them merrily;

If good, thou sham'st the musick of sweet news
By playing it to me with fo four a face.

Nurfe. I am aweary, give me leave a while ;-
Fye, how my bones ache! What a jaunt have I had!

Jul. I would, thou hadst my bones, and I thy news: Nay, come, I pray thee, fpeak ;-good, good nurse, speak. Nurse. Jefu, What hafte? can you not stay a while? Do you not fee, that I am out of breath?

Jul. How art thou out of breath, when thou haft breath To fay to me that thou art out of breath?

The excufe, that thou dost make in this delay,
Is longer than the tale thou doft excufe.

Is thy news good, or bad? answer to that

Say

Say either, and I'll stay the circumstance :
Let me be fatisfied, Is't good or bad?

Nurse. 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 paft compare : He is not the flower of courtesy,-but, I'll 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 o' t'other fide,-O, my back, my back!-
Befhrew your heart, for sending 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 nurfe, tell me, what fays my love?
Nurfe. Your love fays like an honeft gentleman,
And a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome,
And, I warrant, a virtuous :-Where is your mother?
Jul. Where is my mother?-why, the is within;
Where should she be? How oddly thou reply'st?
Your love fays like an honest gentleman,

Where is your mother?

Nurse.

O, God's lady dear!

Are you fo hot? Marry, come up, I trow;

Is this the poultice for my aking bones?
Henceforward do your messages 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 you hence to friar Laurence' cell,

There

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
Muft 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 foon at night.
Go, I'll to dinner; hie you to the cell.

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

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI.

Friar Laurence's Cell.

Enter Friar LAURENCE and 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 short 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. These violent delights have violent ends,
And in their triumph die; like fire and powder,
Which, as they kiss, confume: The sweetest honey
Is loathfome in his own deliciousness,

And in the taste confounds the appetite:

Therefore, love moderately; long love doth fo;
Too swift arrives as tardy as too flow.

Enter