SCENE, during the greater part of the play, in Verona; once in the fifth act, at Mantua. ACT I. Gre. To move, is to stir; and to be valiant, is to stand to it: therefore, if thou art mov'd, thou ru'nst away. Sam. A dog of that house shall move me to stand: I will take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's. Gre. That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes to the wall. Sam. True; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the wall:therefore I will push Montague's men from the wall, and thrust his maids to the wall. Gre. The quarrel is between our masters, and us their men. Sam. 'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant; when I have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the maids; I will cut off their heads. Gre. The heads of the maids? Sam. The heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; take it in what sense thou wilt. paradi Gre. They must take it in sense, that feel it. Sam. Me they shall feel, while I am able to stand: and, 'tis known, I am a pretty piece of flesh. Gre. 'Tis well, thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou hadst been poor John. Draw thy tool; here come two of the house of the Montagues. Enter Abram and Balthasar. Sam. My naked weapon is out; quarrel, I will Gre. How? turn thy back, and run? Gre. No, marry: I fear thee! Sam. Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin. Gre. I will frown, as I pass by; and let them take it as they list. Sam. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them; which is a disgrace to them, if they bear Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? [it. Sam. I do bite my thumb, sir. Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, si Sam. No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir; but I bite my thumb, sir. Gre. Do you quarrel, sir? Sam. If you do, sir, I am for you; I serve as good a man as you. Abr. No better. Enter Benvolio, at a distance. Gre. Say-better; here comes one of my mas ter's kinsmen. Sam. Yes, better, sir. Tyb. What, drawn and talk of peace? I hate | Towards him I made; but he was 'ware of me, the word, As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee; 1 Cit. Clubs, bills, and partisans! strike! beat That quench the fire of your pernicious rage Ben. Here were the servants of your adversary, Lady M. O, where is Romeo? saw you him to- And stole into the covert of the wood : Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen, Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause? Enter Romeo, at a distance. Ben. See, where he comes: so please you step Ben. Good morrow, cousin. Ben. But new struck nine. Rom. Ah me! sad hours seem long. Was that my father that went hence so fast? Rom. Not having that, which, having, makes Ben. Of love? Rom. Out of her favour, where I am in love. still, Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will! Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate! Ben. No, coz, I rather weep. Rom. Good heart, at what? Ben. At thy good heart's oppression. Doth add more grief to too much of mine own. [going. Ben. Soft, I will go along; And if you leave me so, you do me wrong. Rom. Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here; This is not Romeo, he's some other where. Ben. Tell me in sadness, who she is you love. Rom. What, shall I groan, and tell thee? Ben. Groan? why no; But sadly tell me, who. Rom. Bid a sick man in sadness make his will:Ah, word ill urg'd to one that is so ill!— In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman. Ben. I aim'd so near, when I suppos'd you lov'd. Rom. A right good marksman! And she's fair I love. Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. Rom. Well, in that hit, you miss: she'll not be With Cupid's arrow, she hath Dian's wit; [hit And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd, From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd. She will not stay the siege of loving terms, Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes, Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold: O, she is rich in beauty; only poor That, when she dies, with beauty dies her store. Ben. That she hath sworn, that she will still live chaste? Rom. She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste; For beauty, starv'd with her severity, She is too fair, too wise; wisely too fair, Ben. Be rul'd by me, forget to think of her. Rom. O teach me how I should forget to think. Ben. By giving liberty unto thine eyes; Examine other beautics. Rom. 'Tis the way To call her's, exquisite, in question morc. Ben. I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt. [exeunt. SCENE II. A STREET. Enter Capulet, Paris, and Servant. Cap. And Montague is bound as well as I, In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think, For men so old as we to keep the peace. Par. Of honourable reckoning are you both; And pity 'tis, you liv'd at odds so long. But now, my lord, what say you to my suit? Cap. But saying o'er what I have said before. The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she; My house and welcome on their pleasure stay. 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 nets; 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; One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish; 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: Shut up in prison, kept without my food, [fellow, Whipp'd, and tormented, and-Good-e'en, go Serv. God gi' good e'en. I pray, sir, can you read? Rom. Ay, mine own fortune in my misery. Serv. Perhaps you have learned it without book: But I pray, can you read any thing 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. [fore. Rom. Indeed, I should have asked you that beServ. 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 Sups the fair Rosaline, whom thou so lov'st; With all the admir'd beauties of Verona: Go thither; and, with unattainted eye, Compare her face with some that I shall show, And I will make thee think thy swan a crów. Rom. When the devout religion of mine eye Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires! And these, who, often drowned, could never Transparent heretics, he burnt for liars! [die, 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 those crystal scales, let there be weigh'd Your lady's love against some other maid That I will show you, shining at this feast, And she shall scant show well, that now shows best. Rom. I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, But to rejoice in splendour of mine own. [exeunt. SCENE III. A ROOM IN CAPULET'S HOUSE. Enter Lady Capulet and Nurse. Lady C. Nurse, where's my daughter? call her forth to me. [year old, Nurse. Now, by my maidenhead, at twelve I bade her come. What, lamb! what, lady-bird! God forbid! where's this girl? what, Juliet! Enter Julict. Jul. How now, who calls? Nurse. Your mother. Jul. Madam, I am here. What is your will? [awhile, Lady C. This is the matter. Nurse, give leave We must talk in secret.-Nurse, come back again; I have remember'd me, thou shalt hear our coun Nurse. 'Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour Lady C. She's not fourteen. Nurse. I'll lay fourteen of my teeth, And yet, to my teen be it spoken, I have but She's not fourteen. How long is it now [four,To Lammas-tide? Lady C. A fortnight, and odd days. Nurse. Even or odd, of all days in the year, And since that time it is eleven years: Wilt thou not, Jule?' and, by my holy-dam. And, pretty fool, it stinted, and said, ' Ay.' Lady C. Enough of this; I pray thee, hold thy peace. [laugh, Nurse. Yes, madam; yet I cannot choose but 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 parlous knock; and it cried bitterly. 'Yea,' quoth my husband, 'fall'st upon thy face? Thou wilt fall backward, when you com'st to age; Wilt thou not, Jule?' it stinted, and said, 'Ay.' Jul. And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, suy I. Nurse. Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace! Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nurs'd: Lady C. Marry, that marry is the very theme Thou know'st, my daughter's of a pretty age. [sel. I'd say, thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat Lady C. 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 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. [tleman? Lady C. What say you? can you love the genThis 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 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. [men, Nurse. No less? nay, bigger; women grow by 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 called, my young lady asked for, the nurse cursed in the pantry, and every thing in extremity, I must hence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight, Lady C. We follow thee. Juliet, the county stays. OR 107 Iriate [days. Nurse. Go, girl, seek happy nights happy [exeunt. SCENE IV.A STREET, H Enter Romeo, Mercutio, Benvolio, with five or six Maskers, Torch-bearers, and others. Rom. What, shall this speech be spoken for our excuse? Or shall we on without apology? to 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; 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 amBeing but heavy, I will bear the light. [bling; 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 common bound. a Rom. I am too sore empierced with his shaft, To soar with his light feathers; and so bound, [putting on a mask. A visor, for a visor !—what care I, Rom. A torch for me: let wantons, light of heart, Mer. Tut! dun's the mouse, the constable's own If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire Of this (save reverence) love, wherein thou stick'st Up to the ears.-Come, we burn day-light, ho. Rom. Nay, that's not so. Mer. I mean, sir, in delay We waste our lights in vain, like damps by day. Mer. Why, may one ask? Rom. I dream't a dream to-night. [true. Rom. Well, what was yours? O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees: |