in dark to be talked on, yet they are past our dancing days; How long is’t now since last yourself and I are past compare. He is not come. Had she affections and warm youthful blood, She’d be as swift in motion as a ball; My words would bandy her to my bed, But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed. Come cords, come Nurse, I’ll to dinner; hie you hence to Friar Lawrence? NURSE. Ay, ay,