Perchance, she cannot meet him—that 's not so,- Of this day's journey; and from nine till twelve My words would bandy her to my sweet love, But old folks, many feign as they were dead; Enter NURSE and PETER. O God, she comes!-O honey nurse, what news? NURSE. Peter, stay at the gate. JUL. Now, good sweet nurse,-O Lord! why look'st thou sad? If good, thou sham'st the music of sweet news By playing it to me with so sour a face. NURSE. I am aweary, give me leave a while; Fie, 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, speak ;-good, good nurse, speak. NURSE. Jesu, what haste? can you not stay a while? Do you not see that I am out of breath? JUL. How art thou out of breath, when thou hast breath The excuse that thou dost make in this delay [Exit PETER. 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 talked 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? "In (4), Juliet's soliloquy ends here. JUL. No, no: 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 ! My back o' t' other side,-O, my back, my back!— 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? And a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, Are you so hot? Marry, come up, I trow; JUL. Here's such a coil,-Come, what says Romeo? NURSE. Then hie you hence to friar Laurence' cell, There stays a husband to make you a wife: Must climb a bird's nest soon, when it is dark: JUL. Hie to high fortune!-honest nurse, farewell. SCENE VI.-Friar Laurence's Cell. Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and ROMEO a. FRI. So smile the Heavens upon this holy act • This scene was entirely re-written, after the first copy. [Exeunt. It cannot countervail the exchange of joy And in the taste confounds the appetite: Enter JULIET. Here comes the lady;-O, so light a foot FRI. Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both. Be heap'd like mine, and that thy skill be more JUL. Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, They are but beggars that can count their worth; I cannot sum up half my sum of wealth. FRI. Come, come, with me, and we will make short work; For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone, [Exeunt. 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; 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 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 tailor for wearing his new doublet before Easter? with another, for tying his new shoes with old riband? and yet thou wilt tutor me from quarrelling! BEN. An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man should buy the feesimple of my life for an hour and a quarter. MER. The fee-simple? O simple! Enter TYBALT and others. BEN. By my head, here come the Capulets. MER. By my heel, I care not. TYB. Follow me close, 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. TYB. You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you will give me occasion. MER. Could you not take some occasion without giving? TYB. Mercutio, thou consortest with Romeo, MER. Consort! what, dost thou make us minstrels! an thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords: here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall make you dance. 'Zounds, consort! BEN. We talk here in the public haunt of men: MER. Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze; I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I. Enter ROMEO. TYB. Well, peace be with you, sir! here comes my man. No better term than this-Thou art a villain. |