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 holidame,
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 years,

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 laugh,
To think it should leave crying, and say "Ay:"
And yet, I warrant, it had upon it brow

A bump as big as a young cockerel's stone;
A perilous knock; and it cried bitterly:
"Yea," quoth my husband, "fall'st upon thy face?
Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest 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 grace!

Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nursed:

44 holidame] holy faith; "halidom" is a commoner form.

49 it stinted] it stopped weeping.

40

50

60

54 cockerel] young cock.

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 honour that I dream not of.

NURSE. An honour! were not I thine only nurse, I would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat.

LA. CAP. Well, think of marriage now; younger than

you

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.

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 gentleman ? 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 lineament,

77 a man of wax] a man finely modelled, well proportioned. 82-89 Read o'er the volume . . . cover] There is a like figurative comparison of a man's face to the page of a book in L. L. L., II, i, 245–246. 84 married] harmoniously combined. Thus the Second Quarto. The other early editions read severall.

71

81

And see how one another lends content;
And what obscured in this fair volume lies
Find written in the margent of his eyes.
This precious book of love, this unbound lover,
To beautify him, only lacks a cover:

The fish lives in the sea; and 't is 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 men.
LA. CAP. Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love?
JUL. I'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 Servingman

SERV. Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you called, my young lady asked for, the nurse cursed

86-87 And what obscured. . . of his eyes] Cf. note on Mids. N. Dr., II, ii, 121-122: "And leads me to your eyes, where I o'erlook Love's stories, written in love's richest book."

88-89 unbound . . . cover] The figurative language here has reference to the binding of books. But "cover" makes quibbling allusion to the law-French phrase "fem[m]e co[u]ver[te]," a wife, a married

woman.

90 The fish... sea] A vague remark to the effect that the fish (which is a thing of beauty) lies hidden in the sea (which is also beautiful). 99 endart] dart. The word is apparently of Shakespeare's invention.

90

100

in the pantry, and every thing in extremity. I must hence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight.

LA. CAP. We follow thee. [Exit Servingman.] Juliet, the county stays.

NURSE. Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV-A STREET

Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with five or six other Maskers, and Torch-bearers

ROM. What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse? Or shall we on without apology?

BEN. The date is out of such prolixity:

We'll have no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf,
Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath,
Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper;
Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke
After the prompter, for our entrance:

105 county] a common variant of the title "count."
"The County Paris," III, v, 218, and IV, ii, 29, 45.
21, infra, is called "this noble earl."

Cf. III, v, 114,

Paris, at III, iv,

3 The date ... prolixity] The time is past for such long-windedness;

it is out of fashion.

4 We'll have no Cupid] It was customary to introduce a party of masquers at an entertainment by a speech or prologue from one of the youngest of their number, who often personated Cupid. Such an episode figures in Tim. of Ath., I, ii, 117, where Cupid's speech is given. A similar procedure is followed in L. L. L., V, ii, 158–173.

6 crow-keeper] scarecrow, keeper-off of crows.

7-8 Nor no... entrance] These lines only appear in the First Quarto. 7 without-book prologue] a prologue learnt by heart.

But, let them measure us by what they will,
We'll measure them a measure, and be gone.

ROM. Give me a torch: I am not for this ambling;
Being but heavy, I will bear the light.

MER. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.
ROM. Not I, believe me: you have dancing shoes
With nimble soles: I have a soul of lead
So stakes me to the ground, I cannot move.
MER. You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings,
And soar with them above a common bound.

ROM. I am too sore enpierced with his shaft
To soar with his light feathers, and so bound,
I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe:
Under love's heavy burthen do I sink.

MER. And, to sink in it, should you burthen love;
Too great oppression for a tender thing.

ROM. Is love a tender thing? it is too rough, Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn. MER. If love be rough with you, be rough with love; Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down. Give me a case to put my visage in:

A visor for a visor! what care I

What curious eye doth quote deformities?

Here are the beetle-brows shall blush for me.

BEN. Come, knock and enter, and no sooner in

But every man betake him to his legs.

ROм. A torch for me: let wantons light of heart

11 Give me a torch] Torch-bearers always accompanied a party of masquers, who performed by night.

21 pitch] technically a falcon's flight in hawking.

10

20

80