9.8K
ROMEO AND JULIET. 97 That God liad lent us but this only child ; But now I see this one is one too much, And that we have a curse in having her : Out on her, hilding ! Nurse. God in heaven bless her ! You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so. Caimlet. And why, my lady wisdom? hold your tongue, Good prudence ; smatter with your gossips, go. Nurse. I speak no treason. Caimlet 0, God ye god-den. Nurse. May not one speak ? Capulet. Peace, you mumbling fool ! Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl ; For here we need it not. Lady Capulet. You are too hot. Capulet. God's bread ! it makes me mad : day, night, late, early, At home, abroad, alone, in company. Waking or sleeping, still my care hath been To have her match'd ; and having now provided A gentleman of noble parentage. Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train' d, Stuff' d, as they say, with honorable parts, Proportion'd as one's thought would wish a man, — And then to have a wretched puling fool, A whining; mammet, in her fortune's tender,
Was this article helpful?
Yes0No0