Serv. Up.
Rom. Whither?
Serv. To supper, to our house.
Rom. Whose house?
Serv. My master's.
Rom. Indeed, I fhould have askt 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. Reft you merry.

(Exit. Ben. At this fame antient feast of Capulet's Sups the fair Rosaline, whom thou fo lov'ft ; With all the admired beauties of Virona. Go thither, and, with untainted eye, Compare her face with some that I shall show, And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.

Rom. When the devout religion of mine eye.

Maintains such falfhoods, then turn tears to fires ! And these, who, often drown'd, could never die,

Transparent hereticks, be burnt for liars !
One fairer than my love! th' all-feeing sun
Ne’er saw her match, fince first the world begun.

Ben. Tut! tut! you saw her fair, none else being by;
Herself pois'd with herfelf, in either eye :
But in those crystal scales, let there be weigh'd
Your lady-love against some other maid, (3)
That I will shew you, shining at this feast;
And she will Thew scant well, that now shews beft.

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

(3) ----------let there be weigh'd

Your Lady's Love againft fome orber Maid.) But the Comparison was not betwixt the Love that Romeo's Mistrefs paid him, and the Person of any other yonng Woman: but betwixt Romeo's Mistrefs herself, and some other that should be matched against her. The Poet therefore must certainly have wrote ;

Your Lady-love against some oiber Maid. So the Comparison ftands right, and feasibly.

SCENE

SCENE, changes to Capulet's House.

. .

to me.

Enter Lady Capulet, and Nurse.
La. Cap. J Urse, where's my daughter? call her forth

Nurse. Now (by my maiden-head at twelve years old) I bade 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:
Ful. Madam, I am here, what is your will ?

Lä. 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 : chou know ft 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's 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 The (God reft all christian souls !) were of an age. Well, Susan is with God, she was too good for me.

But as I faid,

Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen, that fhall the, marry, I remember it well. 'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years, and she was wean'd; I nee ver shall forget it, of all the days in the year, upon that day ; for I had then laid worm-wood to my dug, fit. ting 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 worm-wood on the nipple of my dug, and felt it bitter, pretty fool, to see it teachy, and fall out with the dug. Shake, quoth the dove-house- 'twas no need, I trow, to sid

me trudge; and since that time it is eleven years, for then she could stand alone; nay, by th' rood, she could have run, and waddled all about; for even the day before she broke her brown, 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 Julé ? and by my holy dam, 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 should not forget it: Wilt thou not, Julé, 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 chuse but laugh, to think it should leave crying, and say, 'ay; and yet, I wariant, it had upon its brow a bump as big as a young cockrel's stone: a perilous knock, and it cried bitterly. Yea, quoth my husband, fallit upon thy face? thou wilt fall backward when thcu comeft to age, wilt thou not, Julé? it stinted, and said, ay.

Jul. And stint thee 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 nurft.
An' I might live to see thee married once,
I have my wish,

La.Cap. And that fame marriage 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.
Nurfe. An honour ? were not I thine only nurse,
I'd say, thou had ft fuck'd wisdom from thy teat.

La. Cap. Well, think of marriage now ; younger
Here in Verona, ladies of esteem,
Are måde 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.

than you

Nurle.

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 fay you, can you like the gentleman?
This night you shall behold him at our feašt ;
Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face,
And find delight writ there with beauty's pen ;
Examine ev'ry fev'ral lineament,
And fee, how one another lends content:
And what obfcur'd 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 'tis much pride,
For fair without the fair within to hide.
That book in many eyes doth share the glory,
That in gold clasps locks in the golden story.
So, shall you share all that he doth poffefs,
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 indart mine eye,
Than your consent gives strength to make it fly.

Enter a Servant.

Serv. Madam, the guests are come, fupper ferv'd up, you call’d, my young lady ask'd for, the nurse curft in the pantry, and every thing in extremity. I muft hence to wait; I befeech you, follow ftrait.

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

(Exéuni.

SCENE,

SCENE, a Street before Capulet's House.

Enter Romeo, Mercutio, Benvolio, with five or fixe

other maskers, torch-bearers, and drums.

1

W

Rom. Hat, fhall this speech bespoke for our excufe?

Or shall we on without apology?
Ben. The date is out of fach 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, for our entrance.
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 foles; I have a foul of lead, So stakes me to the ground, I cannot move.

Mer. You are a lover ; borrow Cupid's wings, And foar with them above a common bound.

Rom. I am too fore enpearced with his shaft, To foar with his light feathers : and so bound, I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe : Under love's heavy burden do I sink.

Mer. And to fink in it, should you burden love : Too great oppression for a tender thing!

Rom. Is love a tender thing! It is too rough, Too rude, too boist'rous, 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 ;

[Pulling off his maske A visor for a visor! -what care I, What curious eye doth quote deformities?

Here