NURSE.
Is it good-den?
MERCUTIO.
’Tis no less, I tell ye; for the bawdy hand of the dial is now upon the prick of noon.
NURSE.
Out upon you! What a man are you?
ROMEO.
One, gentlewoman, that God hath made for himself to mar.
NURSE.
By my troth, it is well said; for himself to mar, quoth a? Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I may find the young Romeo?
ROMEO.
I can tell you: but young Romeo will be older when you have found him than he was when you sought him. I am the youngest of that name, for fault of a worse.
NURSE.
You say well.
MERCUTIO.
Yea, is the worst well? Very well took, i’faith; wisely, wisely.
NURSE.
If you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with you.
BENVOLIO.
She will endite him to some supper.