Rom. 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! Exit. Ben. At this same ancient feast of Capulet's fires; And these, who often drown'd could never die, One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun Ben. Tut, you saw her fair, none else being by, I G W I T Your lady's love against some other maid That I will show you shining at this feast, A And she shall scant show well that now shows best. S T ROM. I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, But to rejoice in splendour of mine own. [Exeunt. Co S 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 ! La. Cap. This is the matter:—Nurse, give leave awhile, We must talk in secret:—nurse, come back again; I have remember'd me, thou's 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. 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. 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!— C Were of an age: well, Susan is with God; : To see it tetchy and fall out with the dug! 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. 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: An I might live to see thee married once, I have my wish. La. Cap. Marry, that m rry s he v ry heme c me o ta k 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 1 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, 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; And see how one another lends content, The fish lives in the sea, and 'tis much pride 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. |