M. And his to me, but old folkes, many faine as they were

dead, Vnwieldie, flow, heauy, and pale as lead.

Enter Nurse.

O God she comes, o hony nurse what newes?
Halt thou met with him ? send thy man away.

Nur. Peter stay at the gate.

Iu. Now good sweet nurse, O Lord, why lookelt thou sad?
Though newes, be sad, yet tell them merily.
If good thou shamest the musicke of sweete newes,
By playing it to me, with so lower a face.

Nur. I am a weary, give me leaue a while,
Fie how my bones ake, what a iaunce * haue I had ?

Iu. I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy newes :
Nay come I pray thee speake, good good nurse speake.

Nur. Iefu what hast, can you not stay awhile ?
Do you not see that I am out of breath ?

lu. 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 then the tale thou dost excuse,
Is thy newes good or bad ? answere to that,
Say either and Ile stay the circumstance :
Let me be satisfied, ist good or bad?

Nur. Wel, you haue made a simple choice, you know not how to chuse a man: Romeo, no not he though his face bee better then any mans, yet his leg excels all mens, and for a hand and a foote and a body, though they be not to be talkt on, yet they are past compare : he is not the flower of curtesie, but Ile warrant him as gentle as a lamme: go thy waies wench, ferue God. What haue you dinde at home?

jaunt.

Ju,

Iu. No no, but all this did I know before
What faies he of our marriage, what of that?

Nur. Lord how my head akes, what a head haue I:
It beates as it would fall in twenty peeces.
My backe a tother side, a my backe, my backe :
Beshrew your heart for sending me about
To catch my death with iaunsing * vp and downe.

lu, I faith I am forrie that thou art not well.
Sweete sweete, sweete nurse, tell me what sayes my loue ?

Nur. Your loue saies like an honeit gentleman,
And a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome,
And I warrant a vertuous, where is your mother?
Iu. Where is my mother, why she is within, where should

The be?
How odly thou repliest :
Your loue faies like an honest gentleman,
Where is your mother?

Nur. O Gods lady deare,
Are you so hot, marrie come vp I trow,
Is this the poultis for my aking bones :
Henceforward do your messages your felfe.

Iuli. Heres such a coile, come what saies Romeo ?
Nur. Haue you got leaue to go to fhrift to day?
Iu. I haue.

Nur. Then high you hence to frier Lawrence cell,
There stairs a husband to make you a wife:
Now comes the wanton bloud vp in your cheekes,
Thei'le be in scarlet straight at any newes :
Hie you to church, I must an other way,
To fetch a ladder by the which your loue
Must climde a birds neast foone when it is darke
I am the drudge, and toile in your delight :

But you shall beare the burthen soone at night.
Go Ile to dinner, hie you to the cell.
Iu. Hie to high fortune, honeft nurse farewell.

Exeunt.

Enter Frier and Romeo.

Fri. So smile the heauens vpon this holy act,
That after houres, with forrow chide vs not.

Ro. Amen, amen, but come what sorrow can,
It cannot counteruaile the exchange of ioy
That one short minute giues me in her sight:
Do thou but close our hands with holy words,
Then loue-deuouring death doe what he dare,
It is inough I may but call her mine.

Fri. These violent delights haue violent endes,
And in their triumph die like fire and powder ;
Which as they kisse consume. The sweetest honey
Is loathsome * in his owne delicioufaeffe,
And in the taste confoundes the appetite.
Therefore loue moderately, long loue doth so,
Too swift arriues as tardie as too slow.

Enter Iuliet.

Here comes the lady, oh so light a foot
Will nere weare out the euerlasting fint,
A louer may bestride the gossamours,
That ydles in the wanton sommer ayre,
And yet not fall, fo light is vanitie.

Iu. Good even to my ghostly confessor.
Fri, Romeo shall thanke thee daughter for vs both.

lu. As much to him, else is * his thanks too much,

Ro. Ah Iuliet, if the measure of thy ioy
Be heapt like mine, and that thy skill be more
To blafon it, then sweeten with thy breath
This neighbour ayre, and let rich musicke † tongue,
Vofold the imagin'd happines that both
Receiue in either, by this deare encounter.

lu. Conceit more rich in matter then in words,
Brags of his substance, not of ornament,
They are but beggers that can count their worth,
But my true loue is growne to such excesse,
I cannot sum vp sum of halfe my wealth.

Fri. Come, come with me, and we will make fort worke,
For by your leaues, you shall not stay alone,
Till holy church incorporate two in one.

Enter Mercutio, Benuolio, and men.

Ben. I pray thee good Mercutio lets retire, The day is hot, the Capels ♡ abroad: And if we meet, we shall not scape a brawle, for now these hot dayes, is the mad blood stirring.

Mer. Thou art like one of these fellowes, that when he enters the confines of a tauerne, claps me his sword vpon the table, and fayes God send me no need of thee: and by the operation of the second cup, drawes him on the drawer, when indeed there is no need.

Ben. Am I like such a fellow ?

Mer. Come, come, thou art as hot a lacke in thy moode, as any in Italie : and affoone moued to be moodie, and assoone moodie to be moued.

Ben. And what too?

Mer. Nay and there were two such, wee should haue none shortly, for one would kill the other: thou, why thou wilt quarrell with a man that hath a haire more, or a haire lesse in his beard, then thou hast: thou wilt quarrell with a man for cracking nuts, hauing no other reason, but because thou hast hasel eyes : what eye, but such an eye, would spie out such a quarrel ? thy head is as ful of quarrels, as an egge is ful of meat, and yet thy head hath bin beaten az addle as an egge for quarrelling : thou hast quareld with a man for coffing in the street, because he hath wakened thy dog that hath laine alleepe 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 mce from quarrelling?

Ben. And I were so apt to quarel as thou art, any man should buy the fee-simple of my life, for an houre and a quarter.

Mer. The fee-simple, O simple.

Enter Tybalt, Petruchio, and others.

Ben. By my head here comes the Capulets.
Mer. By my heele I care not,

Tybalt. Follow me close, for I will speake to them.
Gentlemen, good den, a word with one of you.

Mer. And but one word with one of vs ? couple it with somthing, make it a word and a blow.

Ti: You shall find me apt inough to that fir, and you wil giue me occasion.

Mercut. Could you not take some occasion, without giuing?

Ti. Mercutio thou confortest with Romeo.

Mer. Confort, what dost thou make vs minstrels ? and thou make minstrels of vs, looke to heare nothing but discords,