JULIET

It was nine o’clock when I sent the Nurse. She promised to be back in half an hour. Maybe she can’t find him. No, that makes no sense. Oh, she’s so slow! Love’s messengers should be thoughts, which fly ten times faster than sunbeams and drive the shadows back over the dark and scowling hills. That’s how fast swift-winged doves carry the goddess of love in her chariot, and why Cupid has wings that propel him as quickly as the wind. Now the sun is at its highest point in the sky—it’s noon. Three hours have passed since nine o’clock, and yet she hasn’t returned. If she were young and in love, she’d move as fast as a struck tennis ball. My words would bounce her to my sweet love, and his words would bounce her back to me. But old people act as though they’re already dead—awkward, slow, heavy, and pale as lead. Oh God, she’s here! Sweet Nurse, what’s your news? Did you meet with him? Send your servant away.

NURSE

Peter, go back and wait at the gate.

JULIET

Now, good sweet Nurse—Oh Lord, why do you look so sad? If your news is sad, tell it to me as if it’s happy. If it’s good, you’re messing it up by telling it to me with such a sour face like that.

NURSE

I’m weary. Give me some time alone. Oh, my bones are aching! What a journey this has been today.

JULIET

I wish you had my bones, and I had your news. I beg you, speak. Good, good Nurse, tell me!

NURSE

Jesus, what a rush you're in! Can’t you wait for awhile? Don’t you see that I’m out of breath?

JULIET

How are you out of breath when you have the breath to tell me that you’re out of breath? The excuse you’re making while delaying telling me the news is taking longer than it would to tell me your tale. Is your news good or bad? Answer that. Tell me that, and I’ll wait for the details. Tell me at least that. Is it good or bad?

NURSE

Well, you have made a foolish choice. You don’t know how to choose a man. Romeo? No, not him, even though his face is more handsome than any other man’s, his legs are prettier. His hands and feet and body aren’t much to speak of, and yet they’re beyond compare. He isn’t the most courteous man, but, I’d swear that he’s as gentle as a lamb. So do what you want, girl. Be good. Hey, have you already eaten lunch?

JULIET

No, no. I already knew everything you just said. What did he say about our marriage? What about that?

NURSE

Lord, I have such a headache! It’s pounding as if it’s about to break into twenty pieces. And on my other side my back is aching—ah, my back! Curse your heart for sending me out and about. I could get sick and die from all this journeying around!

JULIET

Indeed, I’m sorry you’re in pain. Sweet, sweet, sweet Nurse, tell me, what does my love say?

NURSE

Your love says, like an honorable, courteous, kind, handsome, and, I believe, virtuous gentleman — where is your mother?

JULIET

Where’s my mother? Why, she’s inside. Where else would she be? What a strange answer! “Your love says, like an honorable gentleman, ‘Where is your mother?’”

NURSE

Mary, mother of God! Are you in such a hurry? Indeed, you need to calm down. Is this the way to soothe my aching bones? From here on out, carry your own messages.

JULIET

What a fuss you’re making. Come on, what did Romeo say?

NURSE

Do you have permission to go to confession today?

JULIET

I do.

NURSE

Then hurry up and go to Friar Lawrence’s cell. There waits a husband to make you his wife. Now the lustful blood is rushing up to your cheeks. You blush scarlet whenever you get excited at some news. Get to church. I must go elsewhere to get a rope ladder that your love will use to climb up to your window when it’s dark. I do the drudge work for your pleasure. But soon enough, you’ll be doing your “wifely work” tonight with Romeo. Go. I’ll go to lunch. You go to Friar Lawrence’s cell.

JULIET

I'll hurry off to my good fortune! Goodbye, trustworthy Nurse.