Imatges de pàgina
PDF
EPUB

&

Rom. For your broken fhin.

Ben. Why, Romeo, art thou mad?

Rom. Not mad, but bound more than a mad man is: Shut up in prifon, kept without my food,

Whipt and tormented; and

low.

Good-e'en, good fel

[To the Servant.

Ser. God gi' good-e'en: I pray, Sir, can you read?
Rom. Ay, mine own fortune in my mifery.

Ser. Perhaps you have learn'd it without book: but, I pray, can you read any thing you fee?

Rom. Ay, if I know the letters and the language.

Serv. Ye fay honeftly; reft you merry.

Rom. Stay, fellow, I can read.

[He reads the letter.]

Signior Martino, and his wife and daughters: Count An

felm and bis beauteous fifters; the Lady widow of Vitruvio; Signior Placentio, and his lovely neices; Mercutio, and his brother Valentine; mine uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; my fair neice Rofaline, Livia, Signior Valentio, and his coufin Tybalt; Lucio, and the lively Helena.

A fair affembly; whither fhould they come?
Ser. Up.

8 /Rom. Whither?

Ser. To fupper to our house.

Rom. Whofe house?

Ser. My mafter's.

Rom. Indeed I fhould have ask'd you that before.

Ser. Now I'll tell you without asking. My mafter is the great rich Capulet, and if you be not of the house of Mountagues, I pray come and 9'crafh a cup of wine. Reft you merry.

Ben. At this fame ancient feast of Capulet's, Sups the fair Rosaline, whom thou so lov'st;

8 Ram. Whither? to fupper?

Serv. To our houfe . . . old edit. Warb. emend.
9 crush

[Exit.

With

With all th' 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 fwan a crow.
Rom. When the devout religion of mine eye
Maintains fuch falfehood, then turn tears to fires;
And thofe who often drown'd could never die,
Transparent hereticks, be burnt for liars!
One fairer than my love! th' all-feeing fun
Ne'er faw her match, fince first the world begun.
Ben. Tut, tut, you faw her fair, none elfe being by,
Her felf pois'd with her felf in either eye:
But in those crystal scales let there be weigh'd
Your 'Lady-love against some other maid
That I will fhew you, fhining at this feast,
And fhe will fhew fcant well, that now fhews best.
Rom. I'll go along, no fuch fight to be shewn,
But to rejoice in fplendor of mine own.

SCE NE IV.
Capulet's House.

Enter Lady Capulet, and Nurse.

[Exeunt.

La. Cap. NUrfe, where's my daughter? call her forth

to me.

Nurfe. Now, by my maiden-head, (at twelve years old) I bad her come; what, lamb! what, lady-bird! God forbid where's this girl? what, Juliet!

Enter Juliet.

Jul. How now, who calls?

Nurse. Your mother.

Jul. Madam, I am here, what is your will?

La. Cap. This is the matter

Nurfe, give leave a

while,

thefe z Lady's love.... old edit. Theob. emend.

while, we must talk in fecret; nurse, come back again, I have remembred me, thou fhalt hear my counsel: thou know'ft my daughter's of a pretty age.

Nurfe. 'Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour.

La. Cap. She's not fourteen.

Nurfe. I'll lay fourteen of my teeth, (and yet to my teen be it fpoken, I have but four,) fhe's not fourteen how long is it now to Lammas-tide?

La. Cap. A fortnight and odd days.

Nurfe. Even or odd, of all days in the year, come Lammas-eve at night fhall fhe be fourteen. Sufan and the (God reft all Chriftian fouls) were of an age. Well, SuJan is with God, fhe was too good for me. But as I faid, on Lammas-eve at night fhall fhe be fourteen, that shall she, marry, I remember it well. 'Tis fince the earthquake now eleven years, and fhe was wean'd, I never fhall forget it, of all the days in the year, upon that day; for I had then laid worm-wood to my dug, fitting in the fun under the dove-house wall, my Lord and you were then at Mantua nay, I do bear a brain. But as I faid, when it did tafte the worm-wood on the nipple of my dug, and felt it bitter, pretty fool, to fee it teachy, and fall out with the dug. Shake, quoth the dove-house 'twas no need I trow to bid me trudge; and fince that time it is eleven years, for then she could stand alone, nay, by th' rood, fhe could have run, and wadled all about; for even the day before the broke her brow, and then my husband, (God be with his foul, a'was a merry man,) took up the child; yea, quoth he, doft thou fall upon thy face? thou wilt fall backward when thou haft more wit, wilt thou not, Fulé? and by my holy-dam, the pretty wretch left crying, and faid, ay; To fee now how a jeft fhould come about. I warrant, an I fhould live a thousand years, I never should forget it: Wilt thou not, Julé, quoth he? and pretty fool, it ftinted, and faid, ay.

La. Cap. Enough of this, I pray thee hold thy peace. Nurse. Yes, Madam; yet I cannot chufe but laugh, to think it fhould leave crying, and fay, ay; and yet I warrant it

had

had upon its brow a bump as big as a young cockrel's ftone a perilous knock, and it cried bitterly. Yea, quoth my husband, fall'ft upon thy face? thou wilt fall backward when thou comeft to age; wilt thou not, Julé? it ftinted, and said, ay.

ful. And ftint thee too, I pray thee, nurfe, fay I. Nurfe. Peace, I have done: God mark thee to his grace, Thou was the prettieft babe that e'er I nurft.

An I might live to fee thee married once,

I have my

wifh.

La. Cap. And that fame marriage is the very theme
I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet,
How ftands your difpofition to be married?
Jul. It is an honour that I dream not of.

Nurfe. An honour? were not I thine only nurfe,

I'd fay thou hadft fuck'd wisdom from thy teat.

[you

La. Cap. Well, think of marriage now; younger than

Here in Verona, Ladies of efteem,

Are made already mothers. By my count,
I was your mother much upon thefe years

That you are now a maid. Thus then in brief,
The valiant Paris feeks you for his love.

Nurfe. A man, young Lady, Lady, fuch a man
As all the world- Why, he's a man of wax.
La. Cap. Verona's fummer hath not fuch a flower.
Nurfe. Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower.
La. Cap. Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love?
ful. I'll look to like, if looking liking move.
But no more deep will 1 indart mine eye,
Than your confent gives ftrength to make it fly.
Enter a Servant.

Ser. Madam, the guests are come, fupper ferv'd up, you call'd, my young Lady ask'd for, the nurfe curft in the pantry, and every thing in extremity; I muft hence to wait, I befeech you follow.a [Exeunt. SCENE

VOL. VI.

(a)

I beseech you follow.

La. Cap. We follow thee. Juliet, the County ftays.
Nurfe. Go, girl, feck happy nights to happy days.

S CE
CEN NE

A Street before Capulet's House.

V.

Enter Romeo, Mercutio, Benvolio, with five or fix other Maskers, Torch-bearers, and Drummer.

Rom:

WH

Hat, fhall this fpeech be fpoke for our excufe? Or fhall we on without apology? Ben. The date is out of fuch prolixity. We'll have no Cupid hood-wink'd with a scarf, Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath, Scaring the Ladies like a crow-keeper. Nor a without-book prologue faintly spoke After the prompter, "fore our enterance. But let them measure us by what they will, We'll measure them a meafure, and be gone.

Rom. Give me a torch, I am not for this ambling. Mer. Nay, gentle Romeo, we muft have you dance. Rom. Not I, believe me; you have dancing fhoes With nimble foles, I have a foul of lead

So ftakes me to the ground I cannot move.
Mer. Give me a cafe to put my visage in,

A vifor for a vifor: what care I

What curious eye doth quote deformities?
Here are the beetle-brows fhall blufh for me.

Rom. A torch for me. Let wantons, light of heart, Tickle the fenfelefs rufhes with their heels;

For I am proverb'd with a grand-fire phrase;
I'll be a candle-holder, and look on.

(a)

and look on,

The game was ne'er fo fair, and I am done.

Mer. Tut, dun's the mouse, the constable's own word;

I

3 for

If

« AnteriorContinua »