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Capulet's garden.


Ju. 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 glide than the sun's beams, Driving back shadows over lowering 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 nine till twelve Is three long hours,—yet she is not come. Had she affections, and warm youthful blood, She'd be as swift in motion as a ball ; My words would bandy 1 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 !-0 honey nurse, what news ? Hast thou met with him ? Send thy man away.

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