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, Jule ?” 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 never should forget it: “Wilt thou not, Jule?”

quoth he; And, pretty fool, it stinted,and said, “Ay.” Lady C. 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, A perilous knock ; and it cried bitterly. “ Yea,” quoth my husband, “fall'st upon thy face? Thou wilt fall backward, when thou com’st to age ; Wilt thou not, Jule?” it stinted, and said, “ 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 nurs’d :
An I might live to see thee married once,
I have my wish.

Lady C. 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 would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat. Lady C. 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.*

Lady C. Verona's summer hath not such a flower.
Nurse. Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower.
Lady C. What say you ? can you love the gen-

tleman ?
This night you shall behold him at our feast :
Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face,
And find delight writ there with beauty's pen;
Examine every married lineament,
And see how one another lends content;
And what obscur'd in this fair volume lies,
Find written in the margin of his eyes.

4 That is, as well made as if he had been modelled in wax. So in Wily Beguiled: “Why, he is a man as one should picture him in wax." So Horace uses “Cerea brachia," waxen arms, for arms well shaped.

5 Thus the quarto of 1599. The quarto of 1609 and the folio read, “ every several lineament.” We have, “ The unity and married calm of states," in Troilus and Cressida. And in his eighth Sonnet:

“ If the true concord of well-tuned sounds,

By unions married, do offend thine ear.” 6 The comments on ancient books were generally printed in the margin. Horatio says, in Hamlet, “I knew you must be edified by the margent.” So in the Rape of Lucrece:

“ But she that never cop'd with stranger eyes

Could pick no meaning from their parling looks,

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's eyes doth share the glory,
That in gold clasps locks in the golden story;
So shall you share all that he doth possess,
By having him, making yourself no less.
Nurse. No less ? nay, bigger : women grow by

men.
Lady C. 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.

Enter a Servant.
Serv. Madam, the guests are come, supper serv'd
up, you call’d, my young lady ask'd for, the nurse
curs'd in the pantry, and every thing in extremity.
I must hence to wait ; I beseech you, follow straight.

Nor read the subtle shining secrecies

Writ in the glassy margent of such books." This speech is full of quibbles. The unbound lover is a quibble on the binding of a book, and the binding in marriage; and the word cover is a quibble on the law phrase for a married woman, femme couverte.

7 It is not quite clear what is meant by this. Dr. Farmer explains it, “ The fish is not yet caught ;” and thinks there is a reterence to the ancient use of fish-skins for book-covers. It does not well appear what this meaning can have to do with the context. The sense apparently required is, that the fish is hidden within the sea, as a thing of beauty within a beautiful thing. Malone thinks we should read, “ The fish lives in the shell ; " and he adds that “the sea cannot be said to be a beautiful cover to a fish, though a shell may.” — This whole speech and the next are wanting in the quarto of 1597.

8 The quarto of 1597 reads, o engage mine eye.”

Lady C. We follow thee. — Juliet, the county

stays. Nurse. Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. A Street.

Entưr ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with five or

sir Maskers, Torch-Bearers, and Others. Rom. What! shall this speech be spoke for our

excuse ?
Or shall we on without apology ?

Ben. The date is out of such 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 ; 2
Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke
After the prompter, for our entrance : 3

? In King Henry VIII., where the king introduces himself at the entertainment given by Wolsey, he appears, like Romeo and his companions, in a mask, and sends a messenger before with an apology for his intrusion. This was a custom observed by those who came uninvited, with a desire to conceal themselves, for the sake of intrigue, or to enjoy the greater freedom of conversation. Their entry on these occasions was always prefaced by some speech in praise of the beauty of the ladies, or the generosity of the entertainer ; and to the prolixity of such introductions it is probable Romeo is made to allude. In Histriomastix, 1610, a man expresses bis wonder that the maskers enter without any compliment : - What, come thev in so blunt, without device?” Of this kind of masquerading there is a specimen in Timon, where Cupid precedes a troop of ladies with a speech.

2 The Tartarian bows resemble in their form the old Roman or Cupid's bow, such as we see on medals and bas-relief. Shakespeare uses the epithet to distinguish it from the English bow, whose shape is the segment of a circle. - A crow-keeper was simply a scare-crow. See King Lear, Act iv. sc. 6, note 11.

3 This and the preceding lines are found only in the quarto of 1597. Of course there is an allusion to some of the stage prac. tices of the Poet's time.

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 am-

bling; 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 soles ; I have a soul of lead, So stakes me to the ground, I cannot move.

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

Rom. I am too sore enpierced with his shaft,
To soar with his light feathers; and so bound,
I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe: 5
Under love's heavy burden do I sink.

Mer. And, to sink 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 boisterous; 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 :

[Putting on a Mask. · A visor for a visor !- what care I,

What curious eye doth quote deformities ? 8
Here are the beetle-brows, shall blush for me.

4 A torch-bearer was a constant appendage to every troop of maskers. To hold a torch was anciently no degrading office. Queen Elizabeth's gentlemen pensioners attended her to Cambridge, and held torches while a play was acted before her in the Chapel of King's College on a Sunday evening

5 Milton thought it not beneath the dignity of his task to use a similar quibble in Paradise Lost, Book iv. : “At one slight bound be overleap'd all bound.”

H. 6 Quote was often used for observe or notice. - Brooke's poem