William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition (182 page)

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Authors: William Shakespeare

Tags: #Drama, #Literary Criticism, #Shakespeare

BOOK: William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition
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NURSE God ye good morrow, gentlemen.
MERCUTIO God ye good e’en, fair gentlewoman.
NURSE Is it good e’en?
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 for himself 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 (to Romeo) 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
An old hare hoar
And an old hare hoar
Is very good meat in Lent.
But a hare that is hoar
Is too much for a score
When it hoars ere it be spent.
 
 
Romeo, will you come to your father’s ? We’ll to dinner thither.
ROMEO I will follow you.
MERCUTIO Farewell, ancient lady. Farewell, ⌈
sings
⌉ ‘lady, lady, lady’. Exeunt Mercutio and
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 An a speak anything against me, I’ll take him down an a were lustier than he is, and twenty such jacks; an if I cannot, I’ll find those that shall. Scurvy knave! I am none of his flirt-jills, I am none of his skeans-mates. (To Peter) 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! (
To Romeo
) Pray you, sir, a word; and, as I told you, my young lady bid me enquire 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 behaviour, 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.
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 Laurence’ cell
Be shrived and married.
(Offering money)
Here is for
thy pains.
 
NURSE No, truly, sir, not a penny.
ROMEO Go to, I say, you shall.
NURSE ⌈
taking the money

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 sayst thou, my dear Nurse?
NURSE
Is your man secret? Did you ne‘er hear say
‘Two may keep counsel, putting one away’ ?
ROMEO
I 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 lief see a toad, a very toad,
As see him. I anger her sometimes,
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. Peter!
PETER Anon.
NURSE ⌈
giving Peter her fan
⌉ Before, and apace.
Exeunt

Peter and Nurse at one door, Romeo at another door

 
2.4
Enter Juliet
 
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 louring 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 the 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 look‘st thou sad ?
Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily;
If good, thou sham’st the music of sweet news
By playing it to me with so sour a face.
NURSE
I am a-weary. Give me leave a while.
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 a while?
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—

Juliet rubs her 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 Laurence’ 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.
Exeunt

severally

 
2.5
Enter Friar Laurence and Romeo
 
FRIAR LAURENCE
So smile the heavens upon this holy act
That after-hours with sorrow chide us not!
ROMEO
Amen, amen. But come what sorrow can,
It cannot countervail the exchange of joy
That one short minute gives me in her sight.
Do thou but close our hands with holy words,
Then love-devouring death do what he dare—
It is enough I may but call her mine.
FRIAR LAURENCE
These violent delights have violent ends,
And in their triumph die like fire and powder,
Which as they kiss consume. The sweetest honey
Is loathsome in his own deliciousness,
And in the taste confounds the appetite.
Therefore love moderately. Long love doth so.
Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.
Enter Juliet Somewhat fast, and embraceth Romeo

 
Here comes the lady. O, so light a foot
Will ne’er wear out the everlasting flint.
A lover may bestride the gossamers
That idles in the wanton summer air,
And yet not fall, so light is vanity.
JULIET
Good even to my ghostly confessor.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both.
JULIET
As much to him, else is his thanks too much.
ROMEO
Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy
Be heaped like mine, and that thy skill be more
To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath
This neighbour air, and let rich music’s tongue
Unfold the imagined happiness that both
Receive in either by this dear encounter.
JULIET
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 some of half my wealth.
FRIAR LAURENCE
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
3.1
Enter Mercutio with his page, Benvolio, and men
 
BENVOLIO
I pray thee, good Mercutio, let’s retire.
The day is hot, the Capels are abroad,
And if we meet we shall not scape a brawl,
For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring.
MERCUTIO Thou art like one of these 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 him on the drawer when indeed there is no need.

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