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skains-mates. And thou must stand by too, and suffer 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 me enquire you out; what the bid me fay, I will keep to my felf but first 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 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 proteft unto thee

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

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

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Nurse. 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. No, truly, Sir, not a penny.

Rom. Go to, I fay, you fhall.

Nurfe. This afternoon, Sir? well, fhe fhall be there.
Rom. And stay, good nurfe, behind the abby-wall :
Within this hour my man fhall be with thee,
And bring thee.cords, made like a tackled ftair,
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 blefs thee! hark you, Sir.
Rom. What fayeft thou, my dear nurse?
Nurfe. Is your man fecret? did you ne'er hear fay,

Two

Two may keep counfel, putting one away?

Rom. I warrant thee, my man's as true as steel. Nurfe. Well, Sir, my mistress is the fweeteft 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 see 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. (8) Nurfe. Ah, mocker! that's the dog's name. R. is for Thee? No; I know, it begins with another letter; and fhe hath the prettieft fententious of it, of you and rofemary, that it would do you good to hear it. Rom. Commend me to thy lady

[Exit.Rom.

(8) Rom. Ay, Nurse, what of That? Both with an R.

Nurse. Ab mocker! that's the Dog's Name. R. is for the no, I know it begins with no other Letter,] I believe, I have rectified this old Stuff; but it is a little mortifying, that the Sense, when 'tis found out, should hardly be worth the pains of retrieving it. The Nurse is reprefented as a prating filly Creature; She fays, She will tell Romeo a good Joak about his Miftrefs, and asks him, whether Rosemary and Romeo do not begin Both with a Letter: He fays, Yes, an R. She, who, we muft fuppofe, could not read, thought he had mock'd her, and fays, No, fure, I know better: our Dog's name is R. Yours begins with another Letter. This is natural enough, and very much in Character for this infipid prating Creature. R. put her in mind of that Sound which is made by Dogs when they faarl and therefore, I prefume, the fays, that is the Dog's Name. A Quotation from Ben Johnson's Alchemist will clear up this Allufion.

He shall have a Bell, that's Abel;

And, by it, standing One whose Name is D

-err;

In a rug Gown; there's D and rug, that's Drug ;
And right anenft him a dog faring,
There's Drugger, Abel Drugger.

Mr. Warburton.

Nurfe.

Nurfe. Ay, a thousand times. Peter,
Pet. Anon?

Nurfe. Take my fan, and go before.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to Capulet's Houfe.

Jul. TH

Enter Juliet.

HE clock ftruck nine, when I did fend the nurse :

In half an hour she promis'd to return.

Perchance, she cannot meet him That's not fo
Oh, she is lame: love's heralds should be thoughts,
Which ten times fafter glide than the fun-beams,
Driving back fhadows over lowring hills.
Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love,
And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings.
Now is the Sun upon the highmost hill

Of this day's journey; and from aine 'till twelve
Is three long hours and fhe is not come;

-

yet

Had the affections and warm youthful blood,
She'd be as fwift in motion as a ball;

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

Enter Nurfe, with Peter.

O God, he comes. O honey Nurse, what news?
Haft thou met with him? fend thy man away.
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 mufick of fweet news,
By playing't to me with fo fowre a face.
Nurfe. I am a weary, let me reft a while;

Fy, how my bones ake, 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,

fpeak.

Nurje.

Nurfe. Jefu! what hafte? Can you not stay a while? Do you not fee, that I am out of breath?

Jul. How art thou out of breath, when thou haft breath

To fay to me, that thou art out of breath?
Th' Excuse, that thou doft make in this delay,
Is longer than the Tale thou dost excuse.
Is thy news good or bad? anfwer to that;
Say either, and I'll stay the circumstance:
Let me be fatisfied, is't good or bad?

Nurse. 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 men's; and for a hand, and a foot, and a body, tho' they be not to be talk'd on, yet they are past compare. He is not the flower of courtefie, but, I warrant him, as gentle as a lamb Go thy ways, wench, What, have you dined at home? Jul. No, no but all this did I know before: What fays he of our marriage? what of that?

ferve God

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

My back o' th' 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 fo ill.

Sweet, fweet, fweet nurse, tell me, what fays my love?
Nurfe. Your love fays like an honeft gentleman,
And a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome,

-

And, I warrant, a virtuous where is your mother? Jul. Where is mother? my

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why he is within ;

Where should she be? how odly thou reply'it!

Your love fays like an honeft gentleman:

Where is your mother?

Nurfe. O, God's lady dear,

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

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

Ful.

Jul. I have.

Nurfe. Then hie you hence to friar Laurence' cell, There stays a husband to make you a wife.

Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks,
They'll be in fcarlet ftraight at any news.
Hie you to church, I must 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;

Fri.

honeft nurse, farewel.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to the Monastery.

Enter Friar Lawrence, and Romeo.

O fmile the heav'ns upon this holy Act,'

That after-hours with forrow chide us not!
Rom. Amen, amen! but come what forrow can,
It cannot countervail th' exchange of joy,
That one short minute gives me in her fight:
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.

Fri. These violent delights have violent ends,
And in their triumph die; like fire and powder,
Which, as they meet, confume. The sweetest honey
Is loathfome in its own deliciousness,

And in the taste confounds the appetite ;

Therefore love mod'rately, long love doth fo:
Too fwift arrives as tardy as too flow.

Enter Juliet.

Here comes the lady. O, fo light a foot
Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint
A lover may bestride the goffamour,
That idles in the wanton fummer air,
And yet not fall, fo light is vanity.

Jul. Good even to my ghoftly Confeffor.

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