Read this passage carefully, and then answer the question that follows it: Juliet: Now, good sweet nurse O Lord, why look'st thou sad? Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily; If good, thou shamest the music of sweet news By playing it to me with so sour a face. Nurse: I am aweary, give me leave a while; Fie, how my bones ache! What a jaunce have I had! Juliet: I would thou hadst my bones and I thy news. Nay, come, I pray thee speak; good, good nurse, speak. Nurse: Jesu, what haste? Can you not stay a while? Do you not see that I am out of breath? Juliet: How art thou out of breath, when thou hast breath To say to me that thou art out of breath? The excuse that thou dost make in this delay Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse. Is thy news good or bad? Answer to that; Say either, and I'll stay the circumstance. Let me be satisfied, is't good or bad? Nurse: Well, you have made a simple choice; you know not how to choose a man. Romeo! no, not he; though his face be better than any man's, yet his leg excels all men's; and for a hand, and a foot, and a body, though they be not to be talk'd on, yet they are past compare. He is not the flower of courtesy, but I'll warrant him as gentle as a lamb. Go thy ways, wench; serve God. What, have you din'd at home? Juliet: No, no. But all this did I know before. What says he of our marriage? What of that? Nurse: Lord, how my head aches! What a head have I! It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces. My back a t'other side – ah, my back, my back! Beshrew your heart for sending me about To catch my death with jauncing up and down! Juliet: I' faith, I am sorry that thou art not well. Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love? Nurse: Your love says like an honest gentleman, and a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, and, I warrant, a virtuous – Where is your mother? Juliet: Where is my mother! Why, she is within; Where should she be? How oddly thou repliest! 'Your love says like an honest gentleman, Where is your mother?' Nurse: O God's lady dear! Are you so hot? Marry, come up, I trow; Is this the poultice for my aching bones? Henceforward, do your messages yourself. [from Act 2 Scene 5] How does Shakespeare make this such a dramatic and entertaining moment in the play?