Romeo and Juliet (18 page)

Benvolio.
Stop there, stop there!

Mercutio.
Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against
the hair.°

Benvolio.
Thou wouldst else have made thy tale
large.°

Mercutio.
O, thou art deceived! I would have made
it short; for I was come to the whole depth of my
tale, and meant indeed to occupy the argument°
no longer.

Romeo.
Here’s goodly gear!°

Enter Nurse and her Man
[
Peter
].

A sail, a sail!

Mercutio.
Two, two! A shirt and a smock.°

Nurse.
Peter!

Peter.
Anon.

Nurse.
My fan, Peter.

Mercutio.
Good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan’s
the fairer face.

Nurse.
God ye good morrow, gentlemen.

Mercutio.
God ye good-den,° fair gentlewoman.

Nurse.
Is it good-den?

Mercutio.
’Tis no less, I tell ye; for the bawdy hand
of the dial is now upon the prick° of noon.

Nurse.
Out upon you! What a man are you!

Romeo.
One, gentlewoman, that God hath made, him-
self to mar.

Nurse.
By my troth, it is well said. “For himself to
mar,” quoth ’a?° Gentlemen, can any of you tell me
where I may find the young Romeo?

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

Nurse.
You say well.

Mercutio.
Yea, is the worst well? Very well took,° i’
faith! Wisely, wisely.

Nurse.
If you be he, sir, I desire some confidence°
with you.

Benvolio.
She will endite° him to some supper.

Mercutio.
A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! So ho!°

Romeo.
What hast thou found?

Mercutio.
No hare,° sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten
pie,° that is something stale and hoar° ere it be
spent.

[
He walks by them and sings.
]

Romeo, will you come to your father’s? We’ll to
dinner thither.

Romeo.
I will follow you.

Mercutio.
Farewell, ancient lady. Farewell, [
singing
]
“Lady, lady, lady.”°
Exeunt
[
Mercutio, Benvolio
].

Nurse.
I pray you, sir, what saucy merchant was this
that was so full of his ropery?°

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

Nurse.
And ’a speak anything against me, I’ll take him
down, and ’a were lustier than he is, and twenty
such 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 skainsmates.° And thou must stand
by too, and suffer every knave to use me at his
pleasure!

Peter.
I saw no man use you at his pleasure. If I had,
my weapon should quickly have been out, I warrant
you. I dare draw as soon as another man, if I see
occasion in a good quarrel, and the law on my side.

Nurse.
Now, afore God, I am so vexed that every part
about me quivers. Scurvy knave! Pray you, sir, a
word; and, as I told you, my young lady bid me
inquire you out. What she bid me say, I will keep
to myself; but first let me tell ye, if ye should lead
her in a fool’s paradise,° as they say, it were a very
gross kind of behavior, as they say; for the gentle-
woman is young; and therefore, if you should deal
double with her, truly it were an ill thing to be
off’red to any gentlewoman, and very weak° dealing.

Romeo.
Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress.
I protest unto thee—

Nurse.
Good heart, and i’ faith I will tell her as much.
Lord, Lord, she will be a joyful woman.

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

Nurse.
I will tell her, sir, that you do protest, which,
as I take it, is a gentlemanlike offer.

Romeo.
Bid her devise
Some means to come to shrift this afternoon;
And there she shall at Friar Lawrence’ cell
Be shrived and married. Here is for thy pains.

Nurse.
No, truly, sir; not a penny.

Romeo.
Go to! I say you shall.

Nurse.
This afternoon, sir? Well, she shall be there.

Romeo.
And stay, good nurse, behind the abbey wall.
Within this hour my man shall be with thee
And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair,°
Which to the high topgallant° of my joy
Must be my convoy° in the secret night.
Farewell. Be trusty, and I’ll quit° thy pains.
Farewell. Commend me to thy mistress.

Nurse.
Now God in heaven bless thee! Hark you, sir.

Romeo.
What say’st thou, my dear nurse?

Nurse.
Is your man secret? Did you ne’er hear say,
Two may keep counsel, putting one away?

Romeo.
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—O, there is
a nobleman in town, one Paris, that would fain lay
knife aboard;° but she, good soul, had as lieve° see
a toad, a very toad, as see him. I anger her some-
times, and tell her that Paris is the properer man;
but I’ll warrant you, when I say so, she looks as
pale as any clout° in the versal world.° Doth not
rosemary and Romeo begin both with a letter?

Romeo.
Ay, nurse; what of that? Both with an
R.

Nurse.
Ah, mocker! That’s the dog’s name.°
R
is for
the—No; I know it begins with some other letter;
and she hath the prettiest sententious° of it, of you
and rosemary, that it would do you good to hear it.

Romeo.
Commend me to thy lady.

Nurse.
Ay, a thousand times. [
Exit Romeo.
] Peter!

Peter.
Anon.

Nurse.
Before, and apace.
Exit
[
after Peter
].

 

Juliet.
The clock struck nine when I did send the
nurse;
In half an hour she promised to return.
Perchance she cannot meet him. That’s not so.
O, she is lame! Love’s heralds should be thoughts,
Which ten times faster glides than the sun’s beams
Driving back shadows over low’ring hills.
Therefore do nimble-pinioned 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 nine till twelve
Is three long hours; yet she is not come.
Had she affections and warm youthful blood,
She would be as swift in motion as a ball;
My words would bandy her° to my sweet love,
And his to me.
But old folks, many feign as they were dead°—
Unwieldy, slow, heavy and pale as lead.

Enter Nurse
[
and Peter
].

O God, she comes! O honey nurse, what news?
Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away.

Nurse.
Peter, stay at the gate. [
Exit Peter.
]

Juliet.
Now, good sweet nurse—O Lord, why lookest
thou sad?
Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily;
If good, thou shamest the music of sweet news
By playing it to me with so sour a face.

Nurse.
I am aweary, give me leave awhile.
Fie, how my bones ache! What a jaunce° have I!

Juliet.
I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news.
Nay, come, I pray thee speak. Good, good nurse,
speak.

Nurse.
Jesu, what haste! Can you not stay° awhile?
Do you not see that I am out of breath?

Juliet.
How art thou out of breath when thou hast
breath
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. Though 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 a° t’ other side—ah, 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 today?

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.

Enter Friar
[
Lawrence
]
and Romeo.

 

Friar.
So smile the heavens upon this holy act
That afterhours with sorrow chide us not!