The clock struck nine when I did send the Nurse

Juliet
The clock struck nine when I did send the Nurse.
In half an hour she promised to return.
Perchance she cannot meet him. That’s not so.
O, she is lame! Love’s heralds should be thoughts,
Which ten times faster glides than the sun’s beams,
Driving back shadows over louring hills.

Love’s heralds should be thoughts,
Which ten times faster glides than the sun’s beams,
Driving back shadows over louring hills.

Therefore do nimble-pinioned doves draw Love,
And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings.
Now is the sun upon the highmost hill
Of this day’s journey, and from nine till twelve
Is three long hours, yet she is not come.
Had she affections and warm youthful blood,
She would be as swift in motion as a ball;
My words would bandy her to my sweet love,
And his to me.
But old folks, many feign as they were dead,
Unwieldy, slow, heavy, and pale as lead.
  Enter Nurse and Peter.
O God, she comes!—O, honey nurse, what news?
Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away.