𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱; 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘣𝘺𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘯.

𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘐𝘐, 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘝; 𝘴𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭.

𝘫𝘶𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘵'𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘷.

"I sent the Nurse at nine o'clock. Maybe she can't find him. That can't be. Oh, she's slow!" I muttered to myself, "Oh my God, here she comes! Oh sweet Nurse, what news do you bring? Have you spoken to him? Send your man away." I jumped up when I saw her and Thomas approach me.

"Thomas, wait for me at the gate." Nurse told him, and he left.

"Now, good sweet Nurse- oh Lord, why do you look so sad? Even if the news is sad, tell me with a smile on your face. If the news is good, you're ruining the sweet news by playing a trick with a sour face like that." I frowned. 

"I am tired. Leave me alone for a minute. Oh my, my bones ache so much. I've been running all over the place." She sighed.

"I wish you had my bones, and I had your news. Come on now, I beg you, speak, good Nurse, speak." I protested.

"Sweet Jesus, you're in such a hurry! Can't you wait for a moment? Don't you see that I'm out of breath?" Nurse raised her eyebrows.

"How can you be out of breath when you have enough breath to tell me that you're out of breath?" I asked, "Tell me if it's good or bad, and I'll wait for the details. Tell me so I can be satisfied. Is it good or bad?"

"Well, you have made a foolish choice. You don't know how to pick a man. Corbyn? No, not him, though his face is more handsome than any man's, and his legs are prettier." Nurse told me, "He's not the most polite man in the world, but, believe me, he's gentle as a lamb. Well, do what you want. Be good. Have you had lunch yet?"

"No, I haven't had lunch. Everything you told me I already knew. What does he say about our marriage? What about that?" I questioned.

"Lord, what a headache I've got! My head is pounding. It feels like it'll break into twenty pieces." Nurse exclaimed, "Curse your heart for sending me running all over town. I could get sick and die."

"Believe me, I'm sorry you're in pain. Sweet, sweet, sweet Nurse, tell me, what did my love Corbyn say?" I begged. 

"Your love says, like an honorable gentleman, who is courteous, kind, handsome, and, I believe, virtuou- where is your mother?" Nurse said.

"Where is my mother? Why, she's inside. Where else would she be? Your answer is so strange! 'Your love says, like an honorable gentleman, 'Where is your mother?''" I raised an eyebrow, growing impatient. 

"Oh holy Mary, mother of God! Are you this impatient? Come on, you're being ridiculous! Is this the cure for my aching bones? From now on, take care of your messages yourself." Nurse scowled. 

"You're making such a fuss. Come on, what did Corbyn say?" I asked.

"Do you have permission to go out and take confession today?" Nurse questioned.

"I do." I nodded.

"Then hurry up and rush over to Friar Lawrence's cell. There's a husband there who's waiting to make you his wife." Nurse told me.

"Wish me luck. Thank you, dear Nurse." I smiled. 

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵　　‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵
𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦.
𝘎𝘌𝘛 𝘐𝘕 𝘛𝘖𝘜𝘊𝘏 𝘞𝘐𝘛𝘏 𝘗𝘌𝘖𝘗𝘓𝘌 𝘠𝘖𝘜 𝘏𝘈𝘝𝘌𝘕'𝘛 𝘚𝘗𝘖𝘒𝘌𝘕 𝘞𝘐𝘛𝘏 𝘐𝘕 𝘈𝘎𝘌𝘚 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘔𝘈𝘒𝘌!! 𝘗𝘓𝘈𝘕𝘚!! 𝘗𝘓𝘈𝘕 𝘚𝘖𝘔𝘌𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘛𝘖 𝘓𝘖𝘖𝘒 𝘍𝘖𝘙𝘞𝘈𝘙𝘋 𝘛𝘖 𝘉𝘌𝘊𝘈𝘜𝘚𝘌 𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘚𝘌 𝘗𝘓𝘈𝘕𝘚 𝘈𝘙𝘌 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘖𝘕𝘓𝘠 𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘒𝘌𝘌𝘗𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘔𝘌 𝘎𝘖𝘐𝘕𝘎!!