house of Montagues, I pray, come and crush a cup of wine 10. Rest you merry. [Exit. Ben. At this same ancient feast of Capulet's Sups the fair Rosaline, whom thou so lov'st; With all the 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 swan a crow. Rom. When the devout religion of mine eye Maintains such falsehood, 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! the all-seeing sun Ne'er saw her match, since first the world begun. Ben. Tut! you saw her fair, none else being by, Herself pois'd with herself in either eye: But in those crystal scales, let there be weigh'd Your lady's love against some other maid That I will show you, shining at this feast, And she shall scant show well, that now shows best. Rom. I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, But to rejoice in splendour of mine own. 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 maiden-head,-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; 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. Nurse. Even or odd, of all days in the year, And she was wean'd,-I never shall forget it,- To see it tetchy, and fall out with the dug. Shake, quoth the dove-house: 'twas no need, I trow, To bid me trudge. And since that time it is eleven years: For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood, She could have run and waddled all about. For even the day before, she broke her brow: I warrant,,an I should live a thousand years, 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. Nurse. Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace! Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nurs'd: La. Cap. Marry, that marry is the very theme Jul. 13 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 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? 14 This night you shall behold him at our feast: And see how one another lends content; This precious book of love, this unbound lover, That book in many's eyes doth share the glory, Nurse. No less? nay, bigger; women grow by men. La. Cap. Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love? But no more deep will I endart mine eye, Enter a Servant. Serv. Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you call'd, my young lady ask'd for, the nurse cursed in the pantry, and every thing in extremity. I must hence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight. La. Cap. We follow thee.-Juliet, the county stays. Nurse. Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days. [Exeunt |