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Enter Benvolio and Romeo.
Ben. Tut, man! one fire burns out another's burning,

One pain is lefsen'd by another's anguish :
Turn giddy, and be help'd by backward turning;

One defperate grief cure with another's languish : Take thou some new infection to the

eye, And the rank poison of the old will die.

Rom. Your plantan leaf is excellent for that.
Bon. 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 ís :
Shut up in prison, kept without my food,
Whipp'd and tormented: and-Good e’en good fellow.

[To the Servant. Ser. God gi' good e'en. I pray, Sir, can you read? Rom. Ay, inine own fortune in my misery.

Ser. Perhaps you have learn’d it without book; but, 1 pray, can you read any thing you fee? Rom. Ay, if I know the letters and the language. Ser. Ye say honestly, rest you merryRom. Stay, fellow, I can read.

He reads the letter: Signior Martino, and his wife and daughters ; Count Anfelm, and his beauteous fifters; the Lady, widow of Vitruvio; Signior Placentio, and his lovely nieces'; Mers eutio and his brother Valentine ; mine uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters'; my fair niece Rofaline; Livia ; Signior Valentio, and his cousin Tybalt; Lucie, and the lively Helena. A fair assembly; whither should they come ?

Ser. Up.
Rom, Whither?
Ser. To supper, to our house.
Rom. Whofe house?
Ser. My master's..
Rom. Indeed I should have ask'd you that before: 1

Ser. 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: Reft you merry

[Exit.

ر

Ben At this fame ancient feast of Capulet's
Sups the fair Rofaline, whom thou fo lov'it ;
With all th’ admired beauties of Verona,
Go thither, and, with unattainted eye,
Compare her face with some that I Thall show,
And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.

Rom. When the devout religion of mine eye

Maintains such falsehoods, then turn tears to fires ! And these who, often drown'd, could never die,

Transparent heretics, be burnt for lyars !
One fairer than my love! th' all-feeing sun
Ne'er faw her match since first the world begun.

Ben. Tut! 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 shew you, shining at this feast;
And she will thew scant well, that now shews best.

Rom. I'll go alone, no such fight to be shewn; But to rejoice in splendor of mine own. [Exeunt,

to me,

SCE N E IV. Changes to Capulet's house.

Enter. Lady Capulet and Nurse. La. Cap. Nurse, where's my daughter? call her forth

Nurfe. Now (by my maidenhead, at twelve years 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. Your mother.

Jul. Madam, I am here, what is your will? La.Cap. This is the matter.- Nurse, give leave a while, we must talk in secret: nurse, come back again, I have remember'd me, thou shalt hear our counsel : thou know'ft 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's not fourteen, VOL. VIII.

B

How

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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 • Laminas eve at night, shall she be fourteen. Susan " and she (God reit all Chriltian fouls !) were of an

age. Well, Susan is with God, the was too good for

me. But as I said, on Lammas-eve at night ihall she • be fourteen, that ihall she, marry, I remember it well.

'Tis fince the earthquake now eleven years, and she

was wean'd; I never thall forget it, of all the days in " the ycar, upon that day; for I had then laid worm• wood 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 " taite,the wormwood on the ripple of my dug, and ' felt it bitter, pretty fool, to see it teachy, 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 the could stand alone ; nay, by th’ rood, she could have run, and

waddled all about ; for even the day before she • broke her brow, and then my husband (God be with • liis 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, Julé ? and by my holy dam, the pretty wretch • left crying, and faid Ay. To see now how a jest shall

come about.-) warrant, an' I thould live a thou. • sand years, I should not forget it. Wilt thou nøt,

Julé? quoth he; and, pretty fool, it stinted, and said
Ay.'
La.Cap. Enough of this, I pray thee, hold thy peace.

Nurse. Yes, Madam : yet I cannot chuse 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, fallst upon thy face ? thou wilt fall backward when thou comeft to age, wilt thou not, Julé ? it stinted, and said Ay. Jul. And stint thee too, I pray thee, nurse, say I.

Nurse. Peace, I have done : God mark thee to his Thou was the prettiest babe that e'er i nurs’d. [grace! An' I might live to see thee married once,

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I have my wish.

La: Cap. And that some marriage is the very the.de I came to talk of. Telline, daughter Juliet, How stands your disposuiou to be married ?

jul. It is an honour that I dream not of.

Narfe. An honour? were not I thine only nurse, I'd filý thou hud'ít fuck'd wisdom from thy teat.

La Cap. Well, think of marriage now; younger Here in Verona, ladies of esteem,

[than you Are made already mothers. By my count, I was your mother much npon thele years That you are now a maid Thus, then, in brief ; The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.

Nurse. Anan, 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.
Nurfe. Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower.

La.Cap. What say you, can you like the gentleman?
This night you shall behold him at our feaft:
Read o'er the volume of young Prais' face,

'
And find delight writ there with beauty's pen;
Examine ev'ry sev'ral lincament,
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 fith lives in the sea, and 'uis much pride,
For fair without the fair within to hide.
That book in many eyes doth share the glary..
That in gold claips locks in the golden itory,
So'fhall you share all that he doth possess,
By having him, inaking yourself no less.

Nurse. No less ? nay, bigger ; wonien grow by men.
Laiap. Speak briefly, can you like of Paris'.love ?

Jul. I'll look to like, if looking liking move.
But no more deep will I indart mine eye,
· Than your confent gives itrength to make it fly.

Enter a Servant. Ser. Madam, the guests are come, fupper serv'd up you calld, my young Lady alk'd fer, the nurse curs'ü

in

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in the pantry, and every thing in extremity. I must hence to wait. I beseech you,

follow strait, [ Exeunt.

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SCENE V. A fireet before Capuket's house.. Enter Romeo, Mercutio, Benvolio, with fve or fx o

ther mafkers, torch-bearers, and drums.
Rom. What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse?
Or shall we on without apology?

Ben. The date is ont 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:
Nor å 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.
Ron. Not I, believe me; you have dancing shoes
With nimble foles ; I have a foul of tead,
So ftakes me to the ground, I cannot move.

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

Rom I am too fore enpearced with his fhaft,
To foar with his light feathers: and fo bound,
I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe:
Under love's heavy burden do I fink.

Mer. Ind to fink in it, should you burthen love:
Too great oppression for a tender thing!

Rom. Is love a tender thing? It is too rough,
Too rude, too boilt'rous; and it pricks like thorn.

Ner If love be rough with youi, be rough with love;
Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down
Give me a case to put my visage in? [Pulling offris mafk.
A visard for a visard? what care I,
What curious eye doth quote deformities?
Here are the beetle-brows shall blush for me,

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-follow frait. Laid

ap. We follow thee. Juliet, the county says. Nurse. Go, girl, fick happy nights to hapry days,

SCENE, & c.

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