NURSE.
Well, you have made a simple choice; you know not how to
choose a man: Romeo! no, not he; rhough 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 o' t' other side, — O, 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?
