protest unto thee–
Nurse Good heart, and, i’ faith, I will tell her as much:
Lord, Lord, she will be a joyful woman.
ROMEO What wilt thou tell her, nurse? thou dost not mark me.
Nurse I will tell her, sir, that you do protest; which, as
I take it, is a gentlemanlike offer.
ROMEO Bid her devise
Some means to come to shrift this afternoon;
And there she shall at Friar Laurence’ cell
Be shrived and married. Here is for thy pains.
Nurse No truly sir; not a penny.
ROMEO Go to; I say you shall.
Nurse This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there.
ROMEO 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:
Farewell; commend me to thy mistress.
Nurse Now God in heaven bless thee! Hark you, sir.
ROMEO What say’st thou, my dear nurse?
Nurse Is your man secret? Did you ne’er hear say,
Two may keep counsel, putting one away?
ROMEO I warrant thee, my man’s as true as steel.
NURSE Well, sir; my mistress is the sweetest lady–Lord,
Lord! when ’twas a little prating thing:–O, there
is a nobleman in town, one Paris, that would fain
lay knife aboard; but she, good soul, had as lief
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 versal world. Doth not
rosemary and Romeo begin both with a letter?
ROMEO Ay, nurse; what of that? both with an R.
Nurse Ah. mocker! that’s the dog’s name; R is for
the–No; I know it begins with some other
letter:–and she hath the prettiest sententious of
it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you good
to hear it.
ROMEO Commend me to thy lady.
Nurse Ay, a thousand times.
Exit Romeo
Peter!
PETER Anon!
Nurse Peter, take my fan, and go before and apace.
Exeunt
Scene 5
Capulet’s orchard.
Enter JULIET
JULIET The clock struck nine when I did send the nurse;
In half an hour she promised to return.
Perchance she cannot meet him: that’s not so.
O, she is lame! love’s heralds should be thoughts,
Which ten times faster glide than the sun’s beams,
Driving back shadows over louring 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, yet she is not come.
Had she affections and warm youthful blood,
She would be as swift 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, slow, heavy and pale as lead.
O God, she comes!
Enter Nurse and PETER
O honey nurse, what news?
Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away.
Nurse Peter, stay at the gate.
Exit PETER
JULIET Now, good sweet nurse,–O Lord, why look’st thou sad?
Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily;
If good, thou shamest the music of sweet news
By playing it to me with so sour a face.
Nurse I am a-weary, give me leave awhile:
Fie, how my bones ache! what a jaunt have I had!
JULIET 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 awhile?
Do you not see that I am out of breath?
JULIET How art thou out of breath, when thou hast breath
To say to me that thou art out of breath?
The excuse that thou dost make in this delay
Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse.
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 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?
JULIET 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!
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!
JULIET 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?
JULIET 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 O God’s lady dear!
Are you so hot? marry, come up, I trow;
Is this the poultice for my aching bones?
Henceforward do your messages yourself.
JULIET Here’s such a coil! come, what says Romeo?
Nurse Have you got leave to go to shrift to-day?
JULIET I have.
Nurse Then hie you hence to Friar Laurence’ cell;
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
Must 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 soon at night.
Go; I’ll to dinner: hie you to the cell.
JULIET Hie to high fortune! Honest nurse, farewell.
Exeunt
Scene 6
Friar Laurence’s cell.
Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and ROMEO
FRIAR LAURENCE So smile the heavens upon this holy act,
That after hours with sorrow chide us not!
ROMEO 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.
FRIAR LAURENCE 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.
Enter JULIET
Here comes the lady: O, 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.
JULIET Good even to my ghostly confessor.
FRIAR LAURENCE Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both.
JULIET As much to him, else is his thanks too much.
ROMEO 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 imagined happiness that both
Receive in either by this dear encounter.
JULIET 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 sum of half my wealth.
FRIAR LAURENCE 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 3
Scene 1
A public place.
Enter MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, Page, and Servants
BENVOLIO 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.
MERCUTIO 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.
BENVOLIO Am I like such a fellow?
MERCUTIO Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as