Jul. 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? Jul. Where is my mother?-why, she is within; Where should she be? How oddly thou reply'st? 620 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; Jul. Here's such a coil;-Come, what says Nurse. Have you got leave to go to shrift 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, 631 They'll be in scarlet straight at any news. To fetch a ladder, by the which your love Must climb a bird's nest soon, when it is dark: But you shall bear the burden soon at night. Go, I'll to dinner; hie you to the cell. 639 Jul. Hie to high fortune!-honest nurse, farewel. SCENE VI. Friar LAWRENCE'S Cell. Enter Friar LAWRENCE, and ROMEO. Fri. So smile the heavens upon this holy act, That after-hours with sorrow chide us not! Rom. Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can, It cannot countervail the exchange of joy That one short minute gives me in her sight: Fri. These violent delights have violent ends, 65 And in the taste confounds the appetite : Therefore, love moderately; long love doth so ; Enter JULIET. Here comes the lady:-O, so light a foot That idles in the wanton summer air, 660 Jul. Good even to my ghostly confessor. Fri. Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both. Jul. Jul. As much to him, else are his thanks taó much. Rom. Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy 671 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. Fri. 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 IH. SCENE I. A Street. Enter MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, Page, and Servants. Benvolio. I PRAY thee, good Mercutio, let's retire; The day is hot, the Capulets abroad, And, if we meet, we shall not 'scape a brawl; For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring. 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 ? 10 Mer. Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in Italy; and as soon mov'd to be moody, and as soon moody to be mov'd. Ben. And what too? 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 quarrell'd with a man for coughing in the street, because he hath waken'd thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun. Didst thou not fall out with a taylor for wearing his new doublet before Easter? with another, for tying his new shoes with old ribband? and yet thou wilt tutor me for quarrelling! 30 Ben. An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man should buy the fee-simple of my life for an hour and a quarter. Mer. The fee-simple ? O simple! Enter Enter TYBALT, and others. Ben. By my head, here come the Capulets. Tyb. Follow me close, for I will speak to them.— Gentlemen, good den: a word with one of you. Mer. And but one word with one of us? Couple it with something; make it a word and a blow. 40 Tyb. You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, if you will give me occasion. Mer. Could you not take some occasion without giving ?: Tyb. Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo, Mer. Consort! what, dost thou make us minstrels? an thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords: here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall make you dance. 'Zounds, consort! Ben. We talk here in the publick haunt of men : Either withdraw into some private place, Or reason coldly of your grievances, Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us. 51 Mer. Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze; I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I. Enter ROMEO. Tyb. Well, peace be with you, sir! here comes my man. Mer. But I'H be hang'd, sir, if he wear your livery: Marry, go first to field, he'll be your follower; Your |