quotha? Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I may find young Romeo?

Rom. I can tell you: but young Romeo will be older when you have found him, than he was when you fought him I am the youngest of that name, for fault of a worse.

Nurse. You fay well.

Mer. Yea, is the worst well?

Very well took, i'faith, wifely, wifely.
Nurfe. If you be he, Sir,

I defire fome confidence with you.

Ben. She will indite him to fome fupper.

Mer. A bawd, a bawd, a bawd. So ho! a

Romeo, will you come to your father's? we'll to dinner thither.

Rom. I will follow you.

Mer. Farewel, ancient lady:

Farewel, lady, lady, lady. [Exeunt Mercutio, Benvolio. Nurse. I pray you, Sir, what faucy merchant was this that was fo full of his roguery?

Rom. A gentleman, nurfe, that loves to hear himself talk, and will speak more in a minute, than he will stand to in a month.

Nurse. An a' speak any thing against me, I'll take him down an a' were luftier than he is, and twenty fuch jacks: and if I cannot, I'll find thofe that fhall. Scurvy knave, I am none of his flirt-gills; I am none of his skains-mates. And thou must stand by too, and fuffer every knave to ufe me at his pleasure. [To her Man.

Pet. I faw no man ufe you at his pleasure: if I had, my weapon fhould quickly have been out, I warrant you.

(a)

So ho!

Rom. What haft thou found?

R 4

I

Mer. No hare, Sir, unless a hare, Sir, in a lenten pye, that is fomething ftale and hoar ere it be spent.

An old hare hoar, and an old hare hoar, is very good meat in Lent.

But a hair that is hoar, is too much for a fcore, when it hoars ere it be spent. Romeo, will you come, &c.

I dare draw as foon as another man, if I fee occafion in a good quarrel, and the law on my fide.

Nurfe. Now, afore God, I am fo vext, that every part about me quivers Scurvy knave! Pray you, Sir, a word and as I told you, my young lady bid me enquire you out; what fhe bid me fay, I will keep to my felf: but first let me tell ye, if ye fhould lead her into fool's paradife, as they fay, it were a very grofs kind of behaviour, as they fay, for the gentlewoman is young and therefore if you fhould deal double with her, truly it were an ill thing to be offered to any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing.

Rom. Commend me to thy lady and mistress, I protest unto thee

Nurfe. Good heart, and i'faith I will tell her as much : Lord, Lord, fhe will be a joyful woman.

i Rom. What wilt thou tell her, nurfe? thou dost not mark me.

Nurfe. I will tell her, Sir, that you do proteft; which, as I take it, is a gentleman-like offer.

Rom. Bid her devife fome means to come to shrift this afternoon,

And there the fhall at friar Lawrence' cell

Be fhriv'd and married: here is for thy pains.
Nurfe. No, truly, Sir, not a penny.

Rom. Go to, I fay you fhall.

Nurfe. This afternoon, Sir? well, fhe fhall be there.

Rom. And ftay, good nurfe, behind the abbey-wall : Within this hour my man fhall 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 fecret night.
Farewel, be trufty, and I'll quit thy pains.

Nurfe. Now, God in heav'n bless thee! hark you, Sir.
Rom. What fayeft thou, my dear nurse?
Nurfe. Is your man fecret? did you ne'er hear say,

Two may keep counfel, putting one away?

Rom. I warrant thee my man's as true as steel.

Nurfe

Nurfe. Well, Sir, my miftrefs is the fweeteft 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 fhe, good foul, had as lieve fee a toad,: a very toad, as fee him: I anger her fometimes, and tell her that Paris is the properer man; but I'll warrant you, when I fay fo, fhe looks as pale as any clout in the varfal world. Doth not rosemary and Romeo begin both with a letter?

Rom. Ay, nurse, what of that? both with an R. Nurfe. Ah, mocker! that's the dog's name. 'R. is not for thee, I know it begins with fome other letter ;` and she hath the prettieft fententious of it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you good to hear it.

Rom. Commend me to thy Lady

Nurse. A thousand times. Peter!
Pet. Anon.

[Exit Romeo.

HE clock ftruck nine, when I did fend the

ful. THE

nurse :

In half an hour she promis'd to return.

Perchance the cannot meet him

That's not fo

Oh, fhe is lame: love's heralds fhould be thoughts,
Which ten times fafter glide than the fun-beams,
Driving back shadows over lowring hills.
Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love,
And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings.
Now is the fun upon the highmoft hill

4 R. is for thee? No; I know it begins with another letter,

Of

Of this day's journey, and from nine 'till twelve
5/Are three long hours, yet fhe is not come;
Had the affections and warm youthful blood,
She'd be as fwift in motion as a ball,

My words would bandy her to my fweet love,
And his to me;

Enter Nurfe, with Peter.

O God, fhe comes. What news?

Haft thou met with him? fend thy man away.
Nurfe. Peter, ftay at the gate.

Jul. Now, good sweet nurfe

O Lord, why look'ft thou fad?

Nurfe. I am a weary, let me reft a while;

[Exit Peter.

Fy, how my bones ake, what a jaunt have I had!
Jul. I would thou hadft my bones, and I thy news:
Nay come, I pray thee fpeak

Nurfe. Give me fome Aqua vite.

Good nurfe, speak.

Jul. Is thy news good or bad? anfwer to that; Say either, and I'll ftay the circumstance:

Let me be fatisfied, is't good or bad?

Nurfe. Well, you have made a fimple choice; you know not how to chufe a man: Romeo! no, not he; though his face be better than any man's, yet his legs excel all mens, and for a hand and a foot, and a body, tho' they be not to be talk'd on, yet they are paft compare. He is not the flower of courtefie, but I warrant him as gentle as a lamb — Go thy ways, wench, ferve GodWhat, have you dined at home?

Jul. No, no-- but all this did I know before: What fays he of our marriage? what of that?

Nurfe. Lord, how my head akes! what a head have I? It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces.

My back a 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 so ill.

Sweet,

Sweet, fweet, fweet nurfe, tell me, what fays my love?
Nurse. Your love fays like an honeft gentleman,
And a courteous, and a kind, and a handfome,
And I warrant a virtuous where is your mother?

Jul. Where is my mother? why, fhe is within;
Where should she be? how odly thou reply'st!
Your love fays like an boneft gentleman:

Where is your mother?

Nurfe. O, God's Lady dear,

Are you fo hot? marry come up, I trow,
Is this the poultis of my aking bones?
Hence-forward do your meffages yourself.

Jul. Here's fuch a coil; come, what fays Romeo?
Nurfe. Have you got leave to go to fhrift to-day?
Jul. I have.

Nurse. Then hie you hence to friar Lawrence' cell,
There stays a husband to make you a wife.
Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks,
They'll be in scarlet 7ftraitway at my news.`
Hie you to church, I muft 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 fhall bear the burthen foon at night.
Go, I'll to dinner, hie you to the cell.

Jul. Hie to high fortune; honeft nurfe, farewel!

[Exeunt.

Enter Friar Lawrence and Romeo.

Fri. So fmile the heav'ns upon this holy act,

That after-hours with forrow chide us not!

Rom.

7 Arait at any news.