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Perchance, she cannot meet him:—that 's not so.-
Enter NURSE and PETER.
O God, she comes!—O honey nurse, what news? Hast thou met with him 2 Send thy man away. NURSE. Peter, stay at the gate. [Erit PETER. JUL. Now, good sweet nurse,_O Lord ' why look'st thou sad? Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily; If good, thou sham'st the music of sweet news By playing it to me with so sour a face. NURSE. I am aweary, give me leave a while;— Fie, how my bones achel What a jaunt have I had JUL. 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 a while 2 Do you not see that I am out of breath 2 JUL. 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 2
* In (A), Juliet's soliloquy ends here.
JUL. No, no: But all this did I know before;
SCENE WI.-Friar Laurence's Cell.
Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and RomEo *.
FRI. So smile the Heavens upon this holy act
* This scene was entirely re-written, after the first copy.
It cannot countervail the exchange of joy
Here comes the lady; —O, so light a foot Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint: A lover may bestride the gossamers That idle in the wanton summer air, And yet not fall; so light is vanity. JUL. Good even to my ghostly confessor. FBI. Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both. JUL. As much to him, else 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 music'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 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 half my sum of wealth. FBI. 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. [Eareunt. ACT III.
BEN. I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire;
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 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.
BEN. Am I like such a fellow 2
MER. Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in Italy; and as soon moved to be moody, and as soon moody to be moved.
BEN. And what to ?
MER. Nay, an there were two such, we should have none shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more, or a hair less, in his beard, than thou hast. Thou wilt quarrel with a | man for cracking nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes. What eye, but such an eye, would spy out such 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 quarrelled with a man for coughing in the street, because he hath wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep 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 me from quarrelling ! BEN. An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man should buy the feesimple of my life for an hour and a quarter. MER. The fee-simple? O simple!
Enter TYBALT and others.
BEN. By my head, here come the Capulets.
TyB. Well, peace be with you, sir! here comes my man.
* (A), hate.