Nurce: An honor! were not I thy onely Nurce, I
would say thou hadst suckt wisedome from thy Teat.
Wife: Well girle, the Noble Countie Paris seekes
thee for his Wife.
Nurce: A man young Ladie, Ladie such a man as all 55
the world, why he is a man of waxe.
Wife: Veronaes Summer hath not such a flower.
Nurce: Nay he is a flower, in faith a very flower.
Wife: Well Iuliet, how like you of Paris loue.
Iuliet: Ile looke to like, if looking liking moue, 60
But no more deepe will I engage mine eye,
Then your consent giues strength to make it flie.
Enter Clowne.
Clowne: Maddam you are cald for, supper is readie,
the Nurce curst in the Pantrie, all thinges in extreamitie,
make hast for I must be gone to waite. 65