She hath forsworn to love; and in that vow Ben. Be rul'd by me, forget to think of her. 'Tis the way Rom. SCENE II.-A Street. Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Servant. Par. Of honourable reckoning are you both; [Exeunt. Par. Younger than she are happy mothers made. She is the hopeful lady of my earth: Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light: And like her most whose merit most shall be: Whose names are written there [gives a paper], and to them say, My house and welcome on their pleasure stay. [Exeunt CAPULET and PARIS. Serv. Find them out whose names are written here! It is written that the shoemaker should meddle with his yard, and the tailor with his last, the fisher with his pencil, and the painter with his nest; but I am sent to find those persons whose names are here writ, and can never find what names the writing person hath here writ. I must to the learned:-in good time. Enter BENVOLIO and ROMEO. Ben. Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning, Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning; One desperate grief cures with another's languish : Take thou some new infection to thy eye, And the rank poison of the old will die. Rom. Your plantain-leaf is excellent for that. Rom. For your broken shin. Ben. Why, Romeo, art thou mad? Rom. Not mad, but bound more than a madman is; Whipp'd and tormented, and-God-den, good fellow. Rom. Ay, mine own fortune in my misery. Serv. Perhaps you have learned it without book: but, I pray, can you read anything you see? Rom. Ay, if I know the letters and the language. Serv. Ye say honestly: rest you merry! Rom. Stay, fellow; I can read. [Reads. Signior Martino and his wife and daughters; County Anselme and his beauteous sisters; the lady widow of Vitruvio; Signior Placentio and his lovely nieces; Mercutio and his brother Valentine; mine uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; my fair niece Rosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio and his cousin Tybalt; Lucio and the lively Helena. A fair assembly [gives back the paper]: whither should they come? Serv. Up. Rom. Whither? Serv. To supper; to our house. Rom. Whose house? Serv. My master's. Rom. Indeed, I should have ask'd 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. Rest you merry! [Exit. Ben. At this same ancient feast of Capulet's Rom. When the devout religion of mine eye One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun And she shall scant show well that now shows best. SCENE III.-A Room in CAPULET'S House. Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse. [Exeunt. Lady C. Nurse, where's my daughter? call her forth to me. Nurse. Now, by my maidenhead,―at twelve year 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. Jul. What is your will? Your mother. Madam, I am here. Lady C. This is the matter,-Nurse, give leave awhile, We must talk in secret:-nurse, come back again; I have remember'd me, thou's hear our counsel. 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? Lady C. A fortnight and odd days. Nurse. Even or odd, of all days in the year, Shake, quoth the dove-house: 'twas no need, I trow. And since that time it is eleven years; For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood 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; Lady C. Enough of this; I pray thee, hold thy peace. 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: 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. And find delight writ there with beauty's pen; And see how one another lends content; And what obscur'd in this fair volume lies This precious book of love, this unbound lover, The fish lives in the sea; and 'tis much pride |