Take thou some new infection to the eye,

And the rank poison of the old will die.
Rom. Your plantain-leaf is excellent for that."
Ben. For what, I pray thee?

Rom.

For your broken shin. Ben. Why, Romeo, art thou mad?

Rom. Not mad, but bound more than a madman is :
Shut up in prison, kept without my food,

Whipp'd and tormented, and-Good-e'en, good fellow.
Serv. God gi' good-e'en.—I pray, sir, can you read ?
Rom. Ay, mine own fortune in my misery.

Serv. Perhaps you have learn'd 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 note]: 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.

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 :

[Exit.

Go thither; and, with unattainted eye,

Compare her face with some that I shall shew,
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 heretics, 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 that crystal scales, let there be weigh'd
Your lady's love against some other maid
That I will shew you, shining at this feast,

And she shall scant shew well that now shews best.
Rom. I'll go along, no such sight to be shewn,
But to rejoice in splendour of mine own.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.—A Room in CAPULET'S House.

Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse.

La. Cap. Nurse, where 's my daughter? call her forth to me. Nurse. I bade her come.- -What, lamb! what, lady-bird !— 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 ;
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.

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 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,

Come Lammas-eve at night, shall she be fourteen.

Susan and she were of an age. Well, Susan's with God;
She was too good for me: but, as I said,

On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen ;
That shall she, marry; I remember it well.
'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years;
And she was wean'd-I never shall forget it-
Of all the days of the year, upon that day :
For I had then laid wormwood to my dug,
Sitting 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 wormwood on the nipple
Of my dug, and felt it bitter, pretty fool!

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.

La. Cap. Enough of this: I pray thee, hold thy peace. 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.

La. Cap. 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'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 ?
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.
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.
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 served up, you called, my young lady asked for, the nurse cursed in the pantry, and everything 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.

SCENE IV.-A Street.

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 hoodwink'd with a scarf,
Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath,
Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper ;
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.

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 Cúpid'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:
Under love's heavy burden do I sink.