Whipp'd, and tormented, and-Good e'en, good fellow. ROM. Stay, fellow: I can read. [Reads. "Signor Martino, and his wife and daughter; County Anselme, and his beauteous sisters; the lady widow of Vitruvio; Signor Placentio, and his lovely nieces: Mercutio, and his brother Valentine; Mine uncle Capulet, his wife, and daughters; My fair niece Rosaline; Livia; Signor 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 to supper? SERV. To our house. ROм. Whose house? SERV. My master's. Roм. Indeed, I should have ask'd you 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. BEN. At this same ancient feast of Capulet's [Exit. Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires! And these, who, often drown'd, could never die, Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars! One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun BEN. Tut! you saw her fair, none else being by, Herself pois'd with herself in either eye: But in that crystal scales, let there be weigh'd That I will show you, shining at this feast, And she shall scant show well, that now shows best. SCENE III.—A Room in Capulet's House. Enter LADY CAPULET and NURSE. [Exeunt. 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, ladybird!— God forbid !—where's this girl?—what, Juliet! LA. CAP. This is the matter:-Nurse, give leave a while, We must talk in secret.—Nurse, come back again; I have remember'd me, thou shalt hear our counsel. NURSE. 'Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour. NURSE. 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. And she was wean'd,-I never shall forget it,- And since that time it is eleven years: For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood, 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 its brow A bump as big as a young cockrel's stone; Yea, quoth my husband, fall'st upon thy face? JUL. And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, say I. 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'd 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 a mother much upon these years That you are now a maid. Thus, then, in brief ;— NURSE. A man, young lady! lady, such a man, LA. CAP. Verona's summer hath not such a flower. And see how one another lends content; The fish lives in the sea; and 't is much pride, That book in many's eyes doth share the glory, NURSE. No less? nay, bigger; women grow by men. 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 cursed in the pantry, and everything in extremity. I must hence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight. LA. CAP. We follow thee.-Juliet, the county stays. SCENE IV.A Street. [Exeunt. Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with Five or Six Maskers, Torchbearers, and others. ROм. What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse; Or shall we on without apology? BEN. The date is out of such prolixity: Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke ROM. Give me a torch,—I am not for this ambling ; MER. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance. MER. You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings, Under love's heavy burthen do I sink. MER. And, to sink in it, should you burthen love: ROM. Is love a tender thing? it is too rough, A visor for a visor!-what care I, [Putting on a mask. |