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

know

Nurse. Well, you have made a simple choice; you 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; 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?

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 fide,-O, my back, my back!—
Befhrew your heart, for fending me about,

To catch my death with jaunting up and down!

Jul. I' faith, I am forry that thou art not well: Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what fays my love? Nurse. 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, she is within; Where should she be? How oddly thou reply'st? Your love fays like an honeft 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 meflages yourself.

Jul. Here's fuch a coil;-Come, what fays Romeo?
Nurse. Have you got leave to go to shrift 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 fcarlet 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 neft foon, 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.

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 clofe 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 kifs, 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

Enter JULIET.

Here comes the lady :-O, fo light a foot
Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint :
A lover may bestride the goffomers
That idle in the wanton fummer air,
And yet not fall; fo light is vanity.

Jul. Good even to my ghoftly confeffor.

Fri. Romeo fhall thank thee, daughter, for us both.
Jul. As much to him, elfe are his thanks too much.
Rom. 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 musick's tongue
Unfold the imagin'd happiness that both
Receive in. either by this dear encounter.

Jul. Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,
Brags of his fubstance, not of ornament:
They are but beggars that can count their worth;
But my true love is grown to fuch excess,

I cannot fum up half my fum of 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.

[Exeunt.

ACT

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 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 fword upon the table, and fays, God fend 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 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 foon moody to be moved.

Ben. And what to?

Mer. Nay, an there were two fuch, we fhould have none fhortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why thou wiit quarrel with a man that hath a hair more, or a hair less, in his beard, than thou haft. Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other reason but because thou haft hazel eyes; What eye, but such 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 hast quarrell'd with a man for coughing in the street, because he hath waken'd thy dog that hath lain asleep in the fun. Didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing his

new

new doublet before Eafter? with another, for tying his new shoes with old ribband ? and yet thou wilt tutor me from quarrelling!

Ben. An I were so 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, and Others.

Bėn. 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 will find me apt enough to that, fir, if you will give me occafion.

Mer. Could you not take some occafion without giving? Tyb. Mercutio, thou confort'ft with Romeo,

Mer. Confort! what, doft thou make us minstrels ? an thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but difcords: here's my fiddlestick; here's that fhall make you dance. 'Zounds, confort!

Ben. We talk here in the public haunt of men : Either withdraw into some private place,

Or reafon coldly of your grievances,

Or elfe depart; here all eyes gaze on us.

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, fir! here comes my man. Mer. But I'll be hang'd, fir, if he wear your livery: