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; rhough 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?
JULIET.
No, no: but all this did I know before.
What says he of our marriage? what of that?
NURSE.
Lord, how my head aches! what a head have I!
It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces.
My back o’ t’ other side,—O, my back, my back!—
Beshrew your heart for sending me about
To catch my death with jauncing up and down!
JULIET.
I’ faith, I am sorry that thou art not well.
Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love?
NURSE.
Your love says, like an honest gentleman,
And a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome;
And, I warrant, a virtuous,—Where is your mother?
JULIET.
Where is my mother?—why, she is within;
Where should she be? How oddly thou repliest!
‘Your love says, like an honest gentleman,—
‘Where is your mother?’
NURSE.
O God’s lady dear!
Are you so hot? marry,come up, I trow;
Is this the poultice for my aching bones?
Henceforward,do your messages yourself.
JULIET.
Here’s such a coil!—come, what says Romeo?
NURSE.
Have you got leave to go to shrift to-day?
JULIET.
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 straight at any news.
Hie you to church; I must another way,
To fetch a ladder, by the which your love
Must climb a bird’s nest soon when it is dark:
I am the drudge, and toil in your delight;
But you shall bear the burden soon at night.
Go; I’ll to dinner; hie you to the cell.
JULIET.
Hie to high fortune!—honest nurse, farewell.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE VI
Friar Lawrence’s Cell.
[Enter Friar Lawrence and Romeo.]
FRIAR.
So smile the heavens upon this holy act
That after-hours with sorrow chide us not!
ROMEO.
Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can,
It cannot countervail the exchange of joy
That one short minute gives me in her sight:
Do thou but close our hands with holy words,
Then love-devouring death do what he dare,—
It is enough I may but call her mine.
FRIAR.
These violent delights have violent ends,
And in their triumph die; like fire and powder,
Which, as they kiss, consume: the sweetest honey
Is loathsome in his own deliciousness,
And in the taste confounds the appetite:
Therefore love moderately: long love doth so;
Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.
Here comes the lady:—O, so light a foot
Will ne’er wear out the everlasting flint:
A lover may bestride the gossamer
That idles in the wanton summer air
And yet not fall; so light is vanity.
[Enter Juliet.]
JULIET.
Good-even to my ghostly confessor.
FRIAR.
Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both.
JULIET.
As much to him, else is his thanks too much.
ROMEO.
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.
JULIET.
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 sum of half my wealth.
FRIAR.
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.
[Exeunt.]
ACT III
SCENE