NURSE.
Jesu! What haste? Can you not stay awhile?
Do you not see that I am out of breath?
JULIET.
How art thou out of breath, when thou hast breath
To say to me that thou art out of breath?
Is thy news good, or bad? Answer to that:
Say either, and I will stay the circumstance:
Let me be satisfied, is it good or bad?
NURSE.
Well, you have made a simple choice; you know not how to choose a man: Romeo, no, not he; 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!