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Rom. I cry you mercy my busines was great, and in such a cafe as mine, a man may straine curtefie.

Mer. Oh thats as much to say as such a case as yours wil constraine a man to bow in the hams.

Rom. A most curteous exposition.
Mer. Why I am the very pinke of curtesie.
Rom. Pinke for flower ?
Mer. Right.
Rom. Then is my pumpe well four'd :

Mer. Well said, follow me nowe that ielt till thou hast worne out thy pumpe, that when the single sole of it is worn the ieft may remaine after the wearing folie singuler.

Rom. O single soald iest solie singuler for the singlenes.
Me. Come between ys good Benuolio, for my wits faile.

Rom. Swits and spurres, swits and spurres, or Ile cry a match.

Mer. Nay if thy witz runne the wildgoose chase, I haue done : for I am sure thou hast more of the goose in one of thy wits, than I haue in al my fiue : was I with you there for the goose ?

Rom. Thou wert neuer with me for any thing, when thou wert not with me for the goose.

Me. Ile bite thee by the eare for that iest.
Rom. Nay good goose bite not.
Mer. Why thy wit is a bitter sweeting, a most sharp sauce
Rom. And was it not well seru'd in to a sweet goose ?

Mer. On heere is a witte of Cheuerell that stretcheth from an ynch narrow to an ell broad.

Rom. I stretcht it out for the word broad, which added to the goose, proues thee faire and wide a broad goose.

Mer. Why is not this better now than groning for loue? why now art thou sociable, now art thou thy selfe, nowe art thou what thou art, as wel by arte as nature. This driueling

loue

loue is like a great naturall, that runs vp and downe to hide his bable in a hole.

Ben. Stop there.

Me. Why thou would haue me stopp my tale against the haire.

Ben. Thou wouldst haue made thy tale too long?

Mer. Tut man ihou art deceiued, I meant to make it short, for I was come to the whole depth of my tale ? and meant indeed to occupie the argument no longer.

Rom. Heers goodly geere.

Enter Nurse and her man.

Mer. A faile, a saile, a faile.
Ben. Two, two, a shirt and a smocke.
Nur. Peter, pree thee giue me my fan.

Mer. Pree thee doo good Peter, to hide her face : for her fanne is the fairer of the two.

Nur. God ye good morrow gentlemen.
Mer. God ye good den faire gentlewoman.
Nur. Is it godye gooden I pray you.

Mer. Tis no lesse I' assure you, for the baudie hand of the diall is euen now vpon the pricke of noone.

Nur. Fie, what a man is this?

Rom. A gentleman nurse, that God hath made for himselfe to marre.

Nur. By my troth well said : for himselfe to marre quoth he ? I pray you can anie of you tell where one maie finde yong Romeo ?? Rom. I can: but yong Romeo will bee elder when you

haue found him, than he was when you fought him. I am the yongest of that name for fault of a worse.

Nur. Well said.
Mer. Yea, is the worst well ? mas well noted, wisely, wisely.
Nur. If you be he fir, I desire some conference with ye.
VOL. IV.

C

Ben,

Enter Nurse.

Oh now she comes. Tell me gentle nurse,
What fayes my loue ?

Nur. Oh I am wearic, let mee rest a while. Lord how my bones ake. Oh wheres my man? Giue me some aqua

vitæ. Iul. I would thou hadít my bones, and I thy newes.

Nur. Fie, what a iaune haue I had : and my backe a tother side. Lord, Lord, what a case am I in.

Jul. But tell me sweet nurse, what sayes Romeo ?

Nur. Romeo, nay, alas you cannot chuse a man. Hees no bodie, he is not the flower of curtesie, he is not a proper man : and for a hand, and a foote, and a baudie, wel go thy way wench, thou hast it ifaith. Lord, Lord, how my head beates ?

Iul. What of all this? tell me what sayes he to our mariage ?

Nur. Marry he sayes like an honest gentleman, and a kinde, and I warrant a vertuous : wheres

your

mother? Iul. Lord, Lord, how odly thou repliest ? He faies like a kinde gentleman, and an honest, and a vertuous; wheres your mother.

Nur. Marry come vp, cannot you stay a while ? is this the poultesse for mine aking boanes ? next arrant youl haue done, euen doot your selfe.

Iul. Nay stay sweet nurse, I doo intreate thee now, What sayes my loue, my lord, my Romeo.

Nur. Goe, hye you straight to frier Laurence cell,
And frame a scuse that you must goe

to shrift:
There stayes a bridegroome to make you a bride.
Now comes the wanton blood vp in your cheekies,
I mult prouide a ladder made of cordes,
Wiih which your lord must clime a birdes nest soone.

I mult

I must take paines to further your delight,
But you must beare the burden soone at night.
Doth this newes please you now?

Iul. How doth her latter words reuiue my hart.
Thankes gentle nurse, dispatch thy bufines,
And Ile not faile to meete my Romeo.

Exeunt.

Enter Romeo, Frier.
Rom. Now father Laurence, in thy holy grant
Consists the good of me and Iuliet.

Fr. Without more words I will doo all I may,
To make you happie if in me it lye.

Rom. This morning here she pointed we should meet,
And consumate those neuer parting bands,
Witnes of our harts loue by ioyning hands,
And come fhe will.

Fr. I gesle she will indeed,
Youths loue is quicke, swifter than swiftest speed.

Enter Iuliet somewhat fast, and embraceth Romeo.
See where she comes.
So light of foote nere hurts the troden flower :
Of love and ioy, see see the foueraigne power.

Iul. Romeo.

Rom. My Iuliet welcome. As doo waking eyes
(Cloasd in nights mysts) attend the frolicke day,
So Romeo hath expected Iuliet,
And thou art come.

Jul. I am (if I be day)
Come to my funne: shine foorth, and make me faire.

Rom. All beauteous fairnes dwelleth in thine eyes.
Iul. Romeo from thige all brightnes doth arise.

Fr. Come wantons, come, the stealing houres do passe
Defer imbracements till fome fitter time,

Part

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Part for a while, you shall not be alone,
Till holy church haue ioynd ye both in one.

Rom. Lead holy father, all delay seemes long.
Iul. Make hast, make hast, this lingring doth vs wrong.

Fr. O, soft and faire makes sweetest worke they say.
Hast is a common hindrer in crosse way. Exeunt omnes.

Enter Benuolio, Mercutio. Ben. I pree thee good Mercutio lets retire, The day is hot, the Capels are abroad.

Mer. Thou art like one of those, that when hee comes into the confines of a tauerne, claps me his rapier on the boord, and sayes, God send me no need of thee: and by the operation of the next cup of wine, he drawes it on the drawr, when in deed there is no need.

Ben. Am I like such a one ?

Mer. Go too, thou art as hot a iacke being mooude, and as soone mooude to be moodie, and as soone moodie to be mooud.

Ben. And what too ?

Mer. Nay, and there were two such, wee should haue none Shortly. Didst not thou fall out with a man for cracking of nuts, hauing no other reason, but because thou hadft hasill eyes? what eye but such an eye would haue pickt out such a quarrell ? With another for coughing, because hee wakd thy dogge that lay a sleepe in the sunne ? With a taylor for wearing his new dublet before Easter : and with another for tying his new shoes with olde ribands. . And yet thou wilt forbid me of quarrelling.

Ben. By my head heere comes a Capolet.

Enter Tybalt.

Mer. By my heele í care not.
Tyó. Gentlemen a word with one of you.

Mer.

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