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Rom. Not mad, but bound more than a madman is; Shut up in prison, kept without my food, Whipped and tormented, and—Good-e'en, good fellow.

Serv. God gi' good e'en— I pray, sir, can you read ? Rom. Ay, mine own fortune in my misery.

Serv. Perhaps you have learned it without book. But, I pray, can you read any thing you see?

Rom. Ay, if I know the letters, and the language.
Serv. Ye say honestly; rest you merry!
Rom. Stay, fellow; I can read.

[Reads. Seignior Martino, and his wife and daughters ; County Anselme, and his beauteous sisters; The lady widow of Vitruvio; Seignior Placentio, and his lovely nieces; Mercutio, and his brother Valentine ; Mine uncle Capulet, his wife, and daughters ; My fair niece Rosaline; Livia; Seignior Valentio, and his cousin Tybalt; Lucio, and the lively Helena. A fair assembly. [Gives back the note.] Whither

should they come ?
Serv. Up
Rom. Whither ?
Serv. To supper; to our house.
Rom. Whose house?
Serv. My master's.
Rom. Indeed, I should have asked


that before. Serv. Now I'll tell you without asking. My master is the great rich Capulet; and if you be not of the house of Montagues, I pray, come and crush a cup of wine. Rest you merry.

[Exit. Ben. At this same ancient feast of Capulet's Sups the fair Rosaline, whom thou so lov'st; With all the admired beauties of Verona. Go thither; and, with unattainted eye, Compare her face with some that I shall show, And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.

i This cant expression seems to have been once common; it often occurs in old plays.

Rom. When the devout religion of mine eye

Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires ! And these, —who, often drowned, could never die,

Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars !
One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun
Ne'er saw her match, since first the world begun.

Ben. Tut! you saw her fair, none else being by,
Herself poised with herself in either eye ;
But in those crystal scales, let there be weighed
Your lady's love against some other maid
That I will show you, shining at this feast,
And she shall scant show well, that now shows best.

Rom. I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, But to rejoice in splendor of mine own. [Exeunt.

SCENE III. A Room in Capulet's House.

Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse. La. Cap. Nurse, where's my daughter? call her

forth to me. Nurse. Now, by my maidenhead at twelve year old, I bade her come. What, lamb! what, lady-bird ! God forbid !—where's this girl? what, Juliet !


Jul. How now; who calls ?

Your mother.

Madam, I am here; What is your will ? La. Cap. This is the matter.—Nurse, give leave


1 Heath says, “ Your lady's love, is the love you bear to your lady, which, in our language, is commonly used for the lady herself.” Perhaps we should read, “ Your lady love."

2 In all the old copies the greater part of this scene was printed as prose. Capell was the first pho exhibited it as verse; the subsequent editors have followed him, but perhaps erroneously. VOL. VII.


We must talk in secret-Nurse, come back again,
I have remembered me, thou shalt hear our counsel.
Thou know'st my daughter's of a pretty age.

Nurse. 'Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour.
La. Cap. She's not fourteen.

I'll lay fourteen of my teeth,
And yet, to my teen' be it spoken, I have but four.-
She is not fourteen. How long is it now
To Lammas-tide ?
La. Cap.

A fortnight, and odd days. Nurse. Even or odd, of all days in the year, Come Lammas-eve at night, shall she be fourteen. Susan and she-God rest all Christian souls !— Were of an age.-Well, Susan is with God; She was too good for me. But, as I said, On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen; That shall she, marry ; I remember it well. 'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years; And she was weaned,—I never shall forget it,Of all the days of the year, upon that day; For I had then laid wormwood to my dug, Sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall, My lord and you were then at Mantua.Nay, I do bear a brain ;—but, as I said, When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple Of my dug, and felt it bitter, pretty fool ! To see it tetchy, and fall out with the dug, Shake, quoth the dove-house ; 'twas no need, I trow, To bid me trudge. And since that time it is eleven years ; For then she could stand alone ; nay, by the rood, She could have run and waddled all about, For even the day before, she broke her brow; And then my husband-God be with his soul ! 'A was a merry man ;-took up the child. Yea, quoth he, dost thou fall upon thy face? Thou wilt fall backward, when thou hast more wit; Wilt thou not, Jule? and, by my holy-dam,

i i. e. to my sorrow.

The pretty wretch left crying, and said-Ay.
To see now, how a jest shall come about!
I warrant, an I should live a thousand

I never should forget it; Wilt thou not, Jule? quoth he:
And, pretty fool, it stinted,' and said — Ay.
La. Cap. Enough of this; I pray thee, hold thy

peace. . Nurse. Yes, madam; yet I cannot choose but ?

To think it should leave crying, and say-Ay.
And yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow
A bump as big as a young cock'rel's stone;
A parlous knock, and it cried bitterly.
Yea, quoth my husband, fall’st upon thy face?
Thou wilt fall backward, when thou com’st to age;.
Wilt thou not, Jule? It stinted, and said — Ay.

Jul. And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, say I.
Nurse. Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his


Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nursed;
An I might live to see thee married once,
I have my wish.

La. Cap. Marry, that marry is the very theme
I came to talk of.-Tell me, daughter Juliet,
How stands your disposition to be married ?

Jul. It is an honor that I dream not of.

Nurse. An honor ! were not I thine only nurse, I'd say thou hadst sucked wisdom from thy teat.

La. Cap. Well, think of marriage now ; younger Here in Verona, ladies of esteem, Are made already mothers; by my count, I was your mother much upon these years That you are now a maid. Thus, then, in brief ;The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.

Nurse. A man, young lady! Lady, such a man, As all the world—Why, he's a man of wax.

than you,

1 To stint is to stop.
2 This tautologous speech is not in the first quarto of 1597.
3 i. e, as well made as if he had been modelled in wax.

La. Cap. Verona's summer hath not such a flower.
Nurse. Nay, he's a flower ; in faith, a very flower.'
La. Cap. What say you ? can you love the gen-

tleman ?
This night you shall behold him at our feast;
Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face,
And find delight writ there with beauty's pen ;
Examine every married 2 lineament,
And see how one another lends content;
And what obscured in this fair volume lies,
Find written in the margin of his eyes.
This precious book of love, this unbound lover,
To beautify him, only lacks a cover.
The fish lives in the sea ; 4 and 'tis much pride,
For fair without the fair within to hide.
That book in many's eyes doth share the glory,
That in gold clasps locks in the golden story;
So shall you share all that he doth possess,
By having him, making yourself no less.

Nurse. No less ? nay, bigger; women grow by



La. Cap. Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love ?

Jul. l'll look to like, if looking liking move;
But no more deep will I endart mine eye,
Than your consent gives strength to make it fly.

Enter a Servant. Serv. Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you called, my young lady asked for, the nurse

1 After this speech of the nurse, lady Capulet, in the old quarto, says only:

“ Well, Juliet, how like you of Paris' love ? ” She answers, “ I'll look to like," &c.; and so concludes the scene.

2 Thus the quarto of 1599. The quarto of 1609 and the folio read, several lineaments.

3 The comments on ancient books were generally printed in the margin.

4 Dr. Farmer explains this, “ The fish is not yet caught.Fish-skin covers to books anciently were not uncommon.

5 The quarto of 1597 reads engage mine eye.

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