Fri. Heaven parden sin! wast thou with Rosaline ? I have forgot that name, and that name's woe. Fri. That's my good son: But where hast thou been then? Rom. I'll tell thee, ere thou ask it me again. I have been feasting with mine enemy; Where, on a sudden, one hath wounded me, Fri. Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift; Rom. Then plainly know, my heart's dear love is set On the fair daughter of rich Capulet: As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine; And all combin'd, save what thou must combine Fri. Holy Saint Francis! what a change is here! Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline! And art thou chang'd? pronounce this sentence then- Fri. For doting, not for loving, pupil mine. Fri. To lay one in, another out to have. Not in a grave, Rom. I pray thee, chide not: she, whom I love now, Doth grace for grace, and love for love allow; The other did not so. Fri. O, she knew well, Thy love did read by rote, and could not spell. For this alliance may so happy prove, Rom. O, let us hence; I stand on sudden haste. SCENE IV.-A Street. Enter BENVOLIO, and MERCUTIO. Mer. Where should this Romeo be ? Came he not home to-night? Ben. Not to his father's; I spoke with his man. Mer. Ah, that same pale hard-hearted girl, that Rosaline, 'Torments him so, that he will sure run mad. Ben. Tybalt, the kinsman of old Capulet, Hath sent a letter to his father's house. Mer. A challenge, on my life. Ben. Romeo will answer it. Mer. Any man that can write, may answer a letter. [Exeunt. Ben. Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he dares, being dared. Mer. Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead! shot thorough the ear with a love-song; the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind Dow-boy's butt-shaft; And is he a man to encounter Tybalt? Ben. Why, what is Tybalt? Mer. More than prince of cats, I can tell you. O, he is the courageous captain of compliments. He fights as you sing, keeps time, distance, and proportion; rests me his minim rest, one, two, and the third in your bosom; the very butcher of a silk button, a duellist, a gentleman of the very first house,―of the first and second cause: Ah, the immortal passado! the punto reverso! the hay! Ben. The what? Mer. The plague of such antic, lisping, affecting fantasticoes; these new tuners of accents!-Ma foi, a very good blade!—a very tall man!—a very fine girl!-Why, is not this a lamentable thing, grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these pardonnez-moys? Enter ROMEO. Ben. Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo. Mer. Without his roe, like a dried herring. Signior Romeo, bon jour! there's a French salutation for you. Rom. Good-morrow to you both. Mer. You gave us the counterfeit last night. Rom. What counterfeit did I give you ? Mer. The slip, sir, the slip; Can you not receive? Rom. Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was great; and, in such case as mine, a man may strain courtesy. Nurse. Peter! Enter Nurse, and PETER. Nurse. My fan, Peter. Mer. Pr'ythee, do, good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan's the fairer of the two. Nurse. Give ye good-morrow, gentlemen. Mer. Give ye good den, fair gentlewoman. Nurse. Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I may find the young Romeo ? Rom. I am the youngest of that name, for fault of a worse. Nurse. You say well. If you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with you. Mer. Romeo, will you come to your father's ?-we'll to dinner thither. Rom. I will follow you. Mer. Farewell, ancient lady; farewell. [Exeunt MERCUTIO, and BENVOLIO. Nurse. Marry, farewell!-I pray you, sir, what saucy merchant was this, that was so full of his roguery? Rom. 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. An 'a speak any thing against me, I'll take him down.— Pray you, sir, a word: and as I told you, my young lady bade me inquire you out; what she bade me say, I will keep to myself: but first let me tell ye, if ye should lead her into fool's paradise, as they say, it were a very gross kind of behavior, as they say for the gentlewoman is young; and, therefore, if you should deal double with her, truly, it were an ill thing to be offered to any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing. Rom. Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress. I protest unto thee, Nurse. Good heart! and, i' faith, I will tell her as much: oh, she will be a joyful woman. Rom. 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. Rom. Bid her devise some means to come to shrift This afternoon; And there she shall at friar Laurence' cell Be shriv'd, and married. Here is for thy pains. Nurse. No, truly, sir; not a penny. Rom. Go to; I say, you shall. Rom. Farewell!-Commend me to thy lady. Nurse. This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there. Nurse. Ay, a thousand times.-Peter! Peter. Anon? Nurse. Peter, take my fan, and go before. [Exit. [Exeunt. SCENE V.-Capulet's Garden. Enter JULIET. Jul. The clock struck nine, when I did send the nurse; Perchance, she cannot meet him :-that's not so.- Of this day's journey; and from nine till twelve Enter Nurse. O, she comes !—O honey nurse, what news? If good, thou sham'st the music of sweet news Nurse. I am aweary, give me leave a while;— Fye, how my bones ache! What a jaunt have I had! Do you not see, that I am out of breath? Jul. 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; Nurse. Well, you have made a simple choice; you know not how to choose a man.--Go thy ways, girl; serve Heaven.--What, have you dined at home? Jul. No, no: But all this did I know before; What says he of our marriage? what of that? Nurse. Oh, how my head aches! what a head have 1! It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces. Beshrew your heart, for sending me about, To catch my death with jaunting up and down? Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love? And a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, Where should she be? How oddly thou reply'st? Your love says like an honest gentleman,— Nurse. Marry, come up, I trow; Jul. Here's such a coil.-Come, what says Romeo ? Nurse. Then hie you hence to friar Laurence' cell, Jul. Hie to high fortune!-honest nurse, farewell. SCENE VI.-Friar Laurence's Cell. Enter Friar LAURENCE, and ROMEO. Fri. So smile the heavens upon this holy act, Rom. Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can, Fri. These violent delights have violent ends, And in the taste confounds the appetite: Enter JULIET. Here comes the lady ;-O, so light a foot Jul. Good even to my ghostly confessor. Fri. Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both. Be heap'd like mine, and that thy skill be more Jul. Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, [Exeunt |