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! [_Exit Romeo._]
PETER.
Anon.
NURSE.
Before and apace. [_Exeunt._]
SCENE V. Capulet’s Garden. 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 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 her to my sweet love,
And his to me.

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