Nur. I am a weary, give me leave a while; Fy, how my Bones ake, what a Jaunt have I had? Jul. I would thou hadst my Bones, and I thy News: Nay come, I pray thee speak- Good Nurfe fpeak. Nur. Jefu! what hafte? can you not stay a while? Do you not fee how 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 doft make in this delay, Is longer than the Tale thou doft excufe. Is thy News good or bad? Anfwer to that, Say either, and I'll stay the Circumstance: Let me be fatisfied, is't good or bad? Nur. Well, you have made a fimple Choice; you know not how to chufe a Man: Rome? no not he, though his Face be better than any Man's, yet his Legs excel all Mens, and for a Hand and a Foot, and a Baw-dy, 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 a Lamb Go thy ways Wench, ferve God: What, have you dined at home? Jul. No, noBut all this did I know before: What fays he of our Marriage? What of that? Nur. Lord how my Head akes! what a Head have I? My Back a t'other fide-O my Back, my Back: Nur. O God's Lady dear, Are you fo hot? marry come up I trow, D3 Hence Hence-forward, do your Maffages your felf. Nur. Then hie you hence to Friar Lawrence's Cell, Jul. Hie to high Fortune; honeft Nurfe farewel. [Exeunt. Enter Friar Lawrence and Romeo. Fri. So fmile the Heav'ns upon this holy A&t. Fri. Thefe violent Delights have violent Ends, And in the tafte confounds the Appetite: Enter Juliet. Here comes the Lady. O, to light a foot Ful. Jul. Good-even to my ghoftly Confeffor. I cannot fum up fome half of my Wealth. Fri. Come, come with me, and we will make short Work, For, by your leaves, you fhall not stay alone, 'Till holy Church incorporate two in one. Ben. ACT III. SCENE I. SCENE The Street: Enter Mercutio, Benvolio, and Servants. [Exeunt 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 fays, God fend me no need of thee: And by the Operation of a fecond Cup, draws him on the Drawer, when indeed there is no need. Ben. Am I like fuch a Fellow? Mer. Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in Italy; and as foon moved to be moody, and as soon moody to be mov'd. Ben. And what too? Mer. Nay, and there were two fuch, we should have none shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why thou D 4 wilt 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 reafon, but because thou haft hafel Eyes; what Eye, but fuch an Eye, would spy out fuch 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 haft quarrell'd with a Man for Coughing in the Street, because he hath wakened thy Dog that hath lain afleep in the Sun. Didft thou not fall out with a Tailor for wearing his new Doublet before Easter? with another, for tying his new Shoes with old Ribband? And yet thou wilt Tutor me from quarrelling! 1 Ben. And I were fo apt to quarrel as thou art, any Man should buy the Fee-fimple of my Life for an hour and a quarter. Mer. The Fee-fimple? O fimple! Enter Tybalt, Petruchio, and others. Ben. By my Head here come the Capulets. Mer. By my Heel I care not. Tyb. Follow me clofe, for I will fpeak to them. Gentlemen, God-den, a Word with one of you. Mer. And but one Word with one of us? couple it with fom thing, make it a Word and a Blow. Tyb. You shall find me apt enough to that, Sir, and you will give me occafion. Mer. Could you not take fome occafion without giving? Tyb. Mercutio, thou confort'ft with Romeo Mer. Confort! What, doft thou make us Minstrels! And thou make Minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but Dif cords: Here's my Fiddleftick; here's that hall make you dance. Come, Conlo t. [Laying his Hand on his Sword. Ben. We talk here in the publick haunt of Men: Either ithdraw unto fome private place, Or reafon coldly of your Grievances, Mer. Mens Eyes were made to look, and let them gaze, I will not budge for no Man's pleasure I. Enter 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: Mary go before 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: Therefore farewel, I fee thou know'ft me not. Mer. O calm, difhonourable, vile Submiffion! Tybalt, You, Rat-catcher, will you walk? Tyb. What wouldst thou have with me? Mer. Good King of Cats, nothing but one of your nine Lives, that I mean to make bold withal; and as you shall use me, hereafter dry beat the reft of the eight. Will you pluck your Sword out of his Pilcher by the Ears? Make hafte, left mine be about your Ears e'er it be out. Tyb. I am for you. Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy Rapier up. [Drawing. [Mer. and Tyb. fight. Rom. Draw, Benvolio-beat down their WeaponsGentlemen-for fhame forbear this OutrageTybalt -Mercutio -the Prince exprefly hath Forbidden bandying in Verona Streets. Hold Tybalt-good Mercutio. Mer. I am hurt A Plague of both the Houfes, I am sped: Is he gone, and hath nothing? Ben. What, art thou hurt? [Exit Tybalt. Mer. Ay, ay, a Scratch, a Scratch; marry 'tis enough. Where is my Page? Go, Villein, fetch a Surgeon. Rom. |