Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily.

If good, thou shamest the music of sweet news By playing it to me with so sour a face.

I am aweary.

Give me leave awhile.

Fie, how my bones ache.

What a jaunt have I!

I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news.

Nay, come, I pray thee, speak, good, good Nurse, speak.

Jesu, what haste!

Can you not stay awhile?

Do you not see that I am out of breath?

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?

Well, you have made a simple choice.

You know not how to choose a man.

Romeo?

No.

Not he.

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, ah, my back, my back!

Beshrew your heart for sending me about To catch my death with jaunting up and down.

I' faith, I am sorry that thou art not well.

Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love?

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?

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!"

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.

Here's such a coil!

Come, what says Romeo?

Have you got leave to go to shrift today?

I have.

Then hie you hence to Friar Lawrence' 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.

[laughs]