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Nurse. Peter, stay at the gate.
[Exit Peter. Jul. Now, good sweet nurse, - lord! why look'st
Nurse. I am aweary, give me leave awhile;
had! Jul. I would, thou hadst my bones, and I thy
Nay, come, I pray thee, speak;-good, good nurse,
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 men's; and for a hand, and a foot, and a body,—though they be not to be talk'd 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 akes! what a head
have I? It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces. My back o't'other side,-0, my back, my back!-Beshrew your heart, for sending me about, To catch my death with jaunting up and down!
Jul. I'faith, I am sorry that thou art not well: Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my
love ? Nurse. Your love says like an honest 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, she is within; Where should she be? How oddly thou reply'st ? Your love says like an honest gentleman,
0, God's lady dear! Are you so hot ? Marry, come up, I trow; Is this the poultice for my aking bones? Henceforward do your messages yourself. Jul. Here's such 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 Laurence' cell, There stays a husband to make you a wife:
Where is your
Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks,
[Ereunt. SCENE VI.
Friar Laurence's Cell.
Enter Friar LAURENCE and ROMEO. Fri. So smile the heavens upon this holy act, That after-hours with sorrow chide us not!
Rom. Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can, It cannot countervail the 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 kiss, consume: The sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness, And in the taste confounds the appetite: Therefore, love moderately; long love doth so; Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.
Here comes the lady:-0, so light a foot
Jul. Good even to my ghostly confessor.
Jul. Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,
to such excess, I cannot sum up
my sum of wealth. Fri. Come, come with me, and we will make
short work; For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone, Till holy church incorporate two in one. [Exeunt.
ACT III. Scene I.
A publick Place.
Enter MERCUTIO, Benvolio, Page, and Servants.
Ben. I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire; The day is bot 43, the Capulets abroad, And, if we meet, we shall not 'scape a brawl; 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 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, but such an eye, would spy out such a quarrel? Thy head is as full of quarrels, as an egg is full of meat; and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg, for quarrelling. Thou hast