Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away.
Nurse. Peter, stay at the gate. [Exit Peter.
21
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 aweary, [give me leave] awhile.
Fie, how my bones [ache]! what a jaunt have I had!
Juliet. I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news.