Nurse. Well, you have made a [simple] choice; you
know not how to choose a man. Romeo! no, not
40he; 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 [o' t'other] side,—O, my back, my back!
[Beshrew] your heart for sending me about,
To catch my death with jaunting up and down!
Juliet. I' faith, I am sorry that thou art not well.
Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love?