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 fhe comes, O hony nurse what newes?
Haft thou met with him? fend thy man away.

Nur. Peter ftay at the gate.

Iu. Now good fweet nurse, O Lord, why lookest thou fad? Though newes, be fad, yet tell them merily.

If good thou shameft the muficke of sweete newes,
By playing it to me, with fo fower a face.

Nur. I am a weary, giue me leaue a while,

Fie how my bones ake, what a iaunce* haue I had ?
Iu. I would thou hadft my bones, and I thy newes :
Nay come I pray thee fpeake, good good nurfe fpeake.
Nur. Iefu what hast, can you not stay awhile?

Do you not fee that I am out of breath?

Iu. 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 then the tale thou doft excuse,

Is thy newes good or bad? anfwere to that,
Say either and Ile ftay the circumstance:
Let me be fatisfied, ift good or bad?

Nur. Wel, you haue made a fimple choice, you know not how to chufe 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 paft compare: he is not the flower of curtefie, but Ile warrant him as gentle as a lamme: go thy waies wench, ferue God. What haue you dinde at home?

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 fide, a my backe, my backe:
Befhrew your heart for fending me about

To catch my death with iaunfing * vp and downe.
Iu. I faith I am forrie that thou art not well.

Sweete fweete, fweete nurse, tell me what fayes my loue?
Nur. Your loue faies like an honest gentleman,

And a courteous, and a kind, and a handfome,
And I warrant a vertuous, where is your mother?

Iu. Where is my mother, why fhe is within, where should

she be?

How odly thou repliest:1

Your loue faies like an honest gentleman,

Where is your mother?

Nur. O Gods lady deare,

Are you fo hot, marrie come vp I trow,

Is this the poultis for my aking bones:

Henceforward do your meffages your felfe.

Juli. Heres fuch a coile, come what faies 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 ftaies a husband to make you a wife:
Now comes the wanton bloud vp in your cheekes,
Thei'le be in fcarlet straight at any newes :
Hie you to church, I muft an other way,

To fetch a ladder by the which your loue

Muft climde a birds neaft foone when it is darke
I am the drudge, and toile in your delight:

But you shall beare the burthen foone at night.
Go Ile to dinner, hie you to the cell.

Iu. Hie to high fortune, honeft nurfe farewell.

Exeunt.

Enter Frier and Romeo.

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

Ro. Amen, amen, but come what forrow 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 kiffe confume. The sweetest honey
Is loathfome in his owne delicioufneffe,

And in the tafte confoundes the appetite.

Therefore loue moderately, long loue doth fo,
Too fwift arriues as tardie as too flow.

Enter Iuliet.

Here comes the lady, oh fo light a foot
Will nere weare out the euerlafting flint,
A louer may beftride the goffamours,
That ydles in the wanton fommer ayre,
And yet not fall, fo light is vanitie.

Iu. Good euen to my ghoftly confeffor.

Fri. Romeo fhall thanke thee daughter for vs both.

loth femness.

lu. As much to him, elfe is * his thanks too much,
Ro. Ah Juliet, 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,
Vafold 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 fubftance, not of ornament,

They are but beggers that can count their worth,
But my true loue is growne to fuch exceffe,

I cannot fum vp fum † of halfe my wealth.

Fri. Come, come with me, and we will make short 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 fhall not fcape a brawle, for now thefe hot dayes, is the mad blood stirring.

Mer. Thou art like one of thefe fellowes, that when he enters the confines of a tauerne, claps me his fword vpon the table, and fayes God fend me no need of thee: and by the operation of the fecond cup, drawes 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 lacke in thy moode, as any in Italie: and affoone moued to be moodie, and affoone moodie to be moued.

* in.

+ mufickes. I fome.

Capulets.

Ben.

Ben. And what too?

Mer. Nay and there were two fuch, wee should haue none fhortly, for one would kill the other: thou, why thou wilt quarrell with a man that hath a haire more, or a haire leffe in his beard, then thou haft: thou wilt quarrell with a man for cracking nuts, hauing no other reafon, but because thou haft hafel eyes: what eye, but fuch 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 as addle as an egge for quarrelling thou haft quareld with a man for coffing in the street, because he hath wakened thy dog that hath laine asleepe in the fun. Didft thou not fall out with a tailor, for wearing his new doublet before Eafter with another, for tying his new shoes with old riband, and yet thou wilt tutor mee from quarrelling?

:

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

Enter Tybalt, Petruchio, and others.

Ben. By my head here comes the Capulets.

Mer. By my heele I care not.

Tybalt. Follow me clofe, for I will fpeake to them.

Gentlemen, good den, a word with one of you.

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

Ti. You fhall find me apt inough to that fir, and you wil giue me occafion.

Mercut. Could you not take fome occafion, without giuing?

Ti. Mercutio thou conforteft with Romeo.

Mer. Confort, what doft thou make vs minstrels ? and thou make minstrels of vs, looke to heare nothing but difcords, heeres