SCENE III.—A Room in Capulet's House. Enter Lady CAPULET, and Nurse. La. Cap. Nurse, where's my daughter? call her forth t▷ me. Jul. How now, who calls? Nurse. Jul. What is your will? Enter JULIET Your mother. Madam, I am her 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 shalt hear our counsel. Thou know'st, my daughter's of a pretty age. 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,- To Lammas-tide ? La. Cap. A fortnight, and odd days. Nurse. Even or odd, of all days in the year, Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nurs'd. La. Cap. Marry, that marry is the very theme Jul. It is an honor that I dream not of. La. Cap. Well, think of marriage now. 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. La. Cap. What say you? can you love the gentleman ? Jul. I'll look to like, if looking liking move: Enter a Servant. Serv. Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you called, my young lady asked for, the nurse wanted 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. SCENE IV.-A Street. [Exeunt Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with Five or Six 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, Nor no 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. you dance. Mer. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have With nimble soles: I have a soul of lead, 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, o boist❜rous. Mer. If love be rough with you, be rough with love; Give me a case to put my visage in: A visor for a visor!-what care I, What curious eye doth quote deformities? Here are the beetle-brows, shall blush for me. [Putting on a mask Ben. Come, knock, and enter; and no sooner in, But every mar. betake him to his legs. Rom. A torch for me: let wantons, light of heart, Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels; For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase,— But 'tis no wit to go. Mer. Rom. I dreamt a dream to-night. Why, may one ask? Mer. O, then, I see, queen Mab hath been with you. She is the fairies' midwife; and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate-stone On the fore-finger of an alderman, Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love; Rom. Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace; Thou talk'st of nothing. Mer. True, I talk of dreams; Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy; Which is as thin of substance as the air; And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes Even now the frozen bosom of the north, And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, Turning his face to the dew-dropping south. Ben. This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves; Supper is done, and we shall come too late. Rom. I fear, too early: for my mind misgives, Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars, With this night's revels; and expire the term SCENE V.—A Hall in Capulet's House. [Exeunt Enter CAPULET, &c. with the Guests, and the Maskers. Cap. You are welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day, That I have worn a visor; and could tell A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear, Such as would please ;-'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone: [Music plays, and they dance. Rom. What lady's that, which doth enrich the hand Of yonder knight? Serv. I know not, sir. Rom. O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand, Tyb. This, by his voice, should be a Montague: To fleer and scorn at our solemnity? Now, by the stock and honor of my kin, To strike him dead I hold it not a sin. Cap. Why, how now, kinsman? wherefore storm you so? A villain, that is hither come in spite, To scorn at our solemnity this night. Tyb. 'Tis he, that villain Romec. Cap. Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone, Tyb. It fits, when such a villain is a guest; I'll not endure him. He shall be endur'd; Am I the master here, or you? go to. Be quiet, cousin, or-I'll make you quiet. Tyb. Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting. I will withdraw but this intrusion shall, : Now seeming sweet, convert to bitter gall. Rom. If I profane with my unworthy hand This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this, Jul. Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, For palm to palm is holy palmer's kiss. Rom. Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too? Jul. Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer. Rom. Thus, then, dear saint, let lips put up their prayer. [Sa Nurse. Madam, your mother craves a word with you. [lutes her. Rom. What is her mother? Nurse. Marry, bachelor, Her mother is the lady of the house, And a good lady, and a wise, and virtuous: Rom. [Exeunt all but JULIET, and Nurse Jul. Come hither, nurse; What is yon gentleman ? Nurse. The son and heir of old Tiberio. Jul. What's he, that now is going out of door? Nurse. Marry, that, I think, be young Petruchio. Jul. What's he, that follows there, that would not dance? Jul. Go, ask his name :-if he be married, My grave is like to be my wedding bed. Nurse. His name is Romeo, and a Montague; The only son of your great enemy. Jul. My only love sprung from my only hate! Of one I danc'd withal. Nurse. What's this? A rhyme I learn'd even now Anon, anon: [One calls within, JULIET. [Exeunt Come, let's away: the strangers all are gone. |