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SCENE II. A street.
Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Servant
CAPULET
But 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.
PARIS
Of honourable reckoning are you both;And pity 'tis you lived at odds so long.But now, my lord, what say you to my suit?
CAPULET
But saying o'er what I have said before:My child is yet a stranger in the world;She hath not seen the change of fourteen years,Let two more summers wither in their pride,Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride.
PARIS
Younger than she are happy mothers made.
CAPULET
And too soon marr'd are those so early made.The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she,She is the hopeful lady of my earth:But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,My will to her consent is but a part;An she agree, within her scope of choiceLies my consent and fair according voice.This night I hold an old accustom'd feast,Whereto I have invited many a guest,Such as I love; and you, among the store,One more, most welcome, makes my number more.At my poor house look to behold this nightEarth-treading stars that make dark heaven light:Such comfort as do lusty young men feelWhen well-apparell'd April on the heelOf limping winter treads, even such delightAmong fresh female buds shall you this nightInherit at my house; hear all, all see,And like her most whose merit most shall be:Which on more view, of many mine being oneMay stand in number, though in reckoning none,Come, go with me.
To Servant, giving a paper
Go, sirrah, trudge aboutThrough fair Verona; find those persons outWhose names are written there, and to them say,My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.
Exeunt CAPULET and PARIS
Servant
Find them out whose names are written here! It iswritten, that the shoemaker should meddle with hisyard, and the tailor with his last, the fisher withhis pencil, and the painter with his nets; but I amsent to find those persons whose names are herewrit, and can never find what names the writingperson hath here writ. I must to the learned.--In good time.
Enter BENVOLIO and ROMEO
BENVOLIO
Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning,One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish;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.
ROMEO
Your plaintain-leaf is excellent for that.
BENVOLIO
For what, I pray thee?
ROMEO
For your broken shin.
BENVOLIO
Why, Romeo, art thou mad?
ROMEO
Not mad, but bound more than a mad-man is;Shut up in prison, kept without my food,Whipp'd and tormented and--God-den, good fellow.
Servant
God gi' god-den. I pray, sir, can you read?
ROMEO
Ay, mine own fortune in my misery.
Servant
Perhaps you have learned it without book: but, Ipray, can you read any thing you see?
ROMEO
Ay, if I know the letters and the language.
Servant
Ye say honestly: rest you merry!
ROMEO
Stay, fellow; I can read.
Reads
'Signior Martino and his wife and daughters;County Anselme and his beauteous sisters; the ladywidow of Vitravio; Signior Placentio and his lovelynieces; Mercutio and his brother Valentine; mineuncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; my fair nieceRosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio and his cousinTybalt, Lucio and the lively Helena.' A fairassembly: whither should they come?
Servant
Up.
ROMEO
Whither?
Servant
To supper; to our house.
ROMEO
Whose house?
Servant
My master's.
ROMEO
Indeed, I should have ask'd you that before.
Servant
Now I'll tell you without asking: my master is thegreat rich Capulet; and if you be not of the houseof Montagues, I pray, come and crush a cup of wine.Rest you merry!
Exit
BENVOLIO
At this same ancient feast of Capulet'sSups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lovest,With all the admired 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 crow.
ROMEO
When the devout religion of mine eyeMaintains 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 sunNe'er saw her match since first the world begun.
BENVOLIO
Tut, you saw her fair, none else being by,Herself poised with herself in either eye:But in that crystal scales let there be weigh'dYour lady's love against some other maidThat I will show you shining at this feast,And she shall scant show well that now shows best.
ROMEO
I'll go along, no such sight to be shown,But to rejoice in splendor of mine own.
Exeunt
SCENE III. A room in Capulet's house.
Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse
LADY CAPULET
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, ladybird!God forbid! Where's this girl? What, Juliet!
Enter JULIET
JULIET
How now! who calls?
Nurse
Your mother.
JULIET
Madam, I am here.What is your will?
LADY CAPULET
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.Thou know'st my daughter's of a pretty age.
Nurse
Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour.
LADY CAPULET
She's not fourteen.
Nurse
I'll lay fourteen of my teeth,--And yet, to my teeth be it spoken, I have but four--She is not fourteen. How long is it nowTo Lammas-tide?
LADY CAPULET
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--God rest all Christian souls!--Were of an age: well, Susan is 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 nippleOf 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:And then my husband--God be with his 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, Jule?' and, by my holidame,The pretty wretch left crying and said 'Ay.'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;And, pretty fool, it stinted and said 'Ay.'
LADY CAPULET
Enough of this; I pray thee, hold thy peace.
Nurse
Yes, madam: yet I cannot choose but laugh,To think it should leave crying and say 'Ay.'And yet, I warrant, it had upon its browA bump as big as a young cockerel's stone;A parlous knock; and it cried bitterly:'Yea,' quoth my husband,'fall'st upon thy face?Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age;Wilt thou not, Jule?' it stinted and said 'Ay.'
JULIET
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 nursed:An I might live to see thee married once,I have my wish.
LADY CAPULET
Marry, that 'marry' is the very themeI came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet,How stands your disposition to be married?
JULIET
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 CAPULET
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 yearsThat 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 manAs all the world--why, he's a man of wax.
LADY CAPULET
Verona's summer hath not such a flower.
Nurse
Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower.
LADY CAPULET
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 contentAnd what obscured in this fair volume liesFind written in the margent 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 prideFor 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.
Nurse
No less! nay, bigger; women grow by men.
LADY CAPULET
Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love?
JULIET
I'll look to like, if looking liking move:But no more deep will I endart mine eyeThan your consent gives strength to make it fly.
Enter a Servant
Servant
Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, youcalled, my young lady asked for, the nurse cursed inthe pantry, and every thing in extremity. I musthence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight.
LADY CAPULET
We follow thee.
Exit Servant
Juliet, the county stays.
Nurse
Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days.
Exeunt