Mer. Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy. Mer. Right. Rom. Why, then is my pump well flower'd. Mer. Sure wit-follow me this jeft, now, till thou haft worn out thy pump, that when the fingle fole of it is worn, the jest may remain, after the wearing, folely fingular. Rom. O fingle-fol'd jeft, Solely fingular, for the finglenefs! Mer. Come between us,good Benvolio, my wit faints. Rom. Switch and spurs, Switch and fpurs, or I'll cry a match. Mer. Nay, if our wits run the wild-goose chase, I am done: for thou haft more of the wild-goofe in one of thy wits, than, I am fure, I have in my whole five. Was I with you there for the goofe? Rom. Thou waft never with me for any thing, when thou waft not there for the goofe. Mer. I will bite thee by the ear for that jeft. Rom. Nay, good goofe, bite not. Mer. Thy wit is a very bitter fweeting, It is a moft sharp fauce. Rom. And is it not well ferv'd in to a sweet goofe? Mer. O, here's a wit of cheverel, that ftretches from an inch narrow to an ell broad. Rom. I ftretch it out for that word broad, which added to the goofe, proves thee far and wide a broad goofe. Mer. Why, is not this better, than groaning for love? Now thou art fociable; now art thou Romeo; now art thou what thou art, by art, as well as by nature; for this driveling love is like a great Natural, that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in a hole. Ben. Stop there, ftop there. Mer. Mer. Thou defireft me to ftop in my tale, against the hair. Ben. Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large. Mer. O, thou art deceiv'd, I would have made it fhort; for I was come to the whole depth of my tale, and meant, indeed, to occupy the argument no longer. Enter Nurfe, and Peter her Man. Rom. Here's goodly Geer: a Sail! a Sail! Nurfe. My Fan, Peter. Mer. Do, good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan's the fairer of the two. Nurfe. God ye good-morrow, gentlemen. Mer. God ye good den, fair gentlewoman. Mer. 'Tis no lefs, I tell you; for the bawdy hand of the dial is now upon the prick of noon. Nurfe. Out upon you! what a man are you? Rom. One, gentlewoman, that God hath made, himself to mar. Nurfe. By my troth, it is well faid: for himself to mar, quotha? Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I may find the 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. Nurfe. You fay well. Mer. Yea, is the worft 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. Rom. What haft thou found? H 2 So ho! Mer. 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 hare, that is hoar, is too much for a score, when it hoars ere it be spent. 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. Nurfe. I pray you, Sir, what faucy merchant was this, that was fo full of his ropery? Rom. A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself talk, and will speak more in a minute, than he will ftand to in a month. Nurfe. An a fpeak any thing against me, I'll take him down an' he were luftier than he is, and twenty fuch Jacks and if I cannot, I'll find those that shall. Scurvy knave, I am none of his flirt-gills; I am none of his fkains-mates. And thou muft ftand by too, and fuffer every knave to use 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. 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 mé enquire you out; what she bid me fay, I will keep to myfelf: but firft let me tell ye, if ye fhould lead her into a 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 should deal double with her, truly, it were an ill thing to be offered to any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing Rom Rom. Commend me to thy lady and mistress, I proteft unto thee Nurfe. Good heart, and, i'faith, I will tell her as much: Lord, lord, she will be a joyful woman. Rom, What wilt thou tell her nurfe? thou doft 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 fhrift this afternoon; And there fhe fhall at friar Laurence' Cell Be fhriv'd and married: here is for thy pains. Nurfe. This afternoon, Sir? well, fhe fhall be there. Must be my convoy in the fecret night. Rom. What fayeft thou, my dear nurse ? Nurse. Is your man fecret? did you ne'er hear say, Two may keep counsel, putting one away? Rom. I warrant thee, my man's as true as steel. Nurse. Well, Sir, my mistress is the sweetest lady; lord, lord! when 'twas a little prating thing-0,there is a noble man 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 verfal world. Doth not Rosemary and Romeo begin both with a letter? Rom. Ay, nurfe, what of that? both with an R. Nurse. Ah, mocker! that's the dog's name. R. is H 3 for for Thee? No, I know, it begins with another letter i and fhe hath the prettieft fententious of it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you good to hear it. Rom. Commend me to thy ladyNurfe. Ay, a thousand times. Peter Pet. Anon? • Nurfe. Take my fan, and go before. SCENE [Exit Rom. [Exeunt V. Changes to Capulet's House. Enter Juliet. Jul.THE nurse: In half an hour fhe promis'd to return. Perchance, fhe cannot meet him-That's not fo- Of this day's journey; and from nine 'till twelve My words would bandy her to my sweet love, Enter Nurfe, with Peter. Haft thou met with him? fend thy man away. O God, he comes. O honey Nurse, what news? Nurfe. Peter, ftay at the gate. [Exit Peter. Jul. Now, good fweet Nurfe, O lord, why look'ft thou fad? Tho' news be fad, yet tell them merrily: If good, thou fham'ft the mufic of sweet news, By |