ROMEO AND JULIET.

АСТ І.

SCENE FIRST.-A Street.

Enter CAPULET and PARIS, L. I E.

CAP. And Montague is bound as well as I,
In penalty alike; and 't is not hard, I think,
For men so old as we to keep the peace.

PAR. Of honourable reckoning are you both;
And pity 't is, 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:
My child is yet a stranger in the world;
Let two more summers wither in their pride,

Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride.

PAR. Younger than she are happy mothers made. CAP. And too soon marr'd are those so early made. But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,

My will to her consent is but a part;
This night I hold an old accustom'd feast,
Whereto I have invited many a guest,

Such as I love; and you, among the rest;
Come, go with me.

[Exeunt, R. I E.

SCENE SECOND.-A Wood near Verona.-ROMEO crosses through the Wood, from L. to R.

Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO, L.

MER. See where he steals.-Told I you not,

That we should find this melancholy Cupid
Locked in some gloomy covert, under key
Of cautionary silence, with his arms

Benvolio,

Threaded, like these cross boughs, in sorrow's knot?

The collars, of the moonshine's wat❜ry beams,
Her whip, of cricket's bone, the lash, of film,
Her waggoner, a small, grey-coated gnat,
Not half so big as a round little worm
Pricked from the lazy finger of a maid;
Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut,
Made by the joiner squirrel, or old grub,
Time out of mind the fairies' coach-makers.
And in this state she gallops night by night
Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love;
On courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight;
O'er doctors' fingers, who straight dream on fees.
O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream.
Sometime she gallops o'er a lawyer's nose,
And then dreams he of smelling out a suit;
And sometimes comes she with a tithe-pig's tail
Tickling a parson as he lies asleep,

Then dreams he of another benefice:

Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,
And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,
Of healths five fathoms deep; and then anon,
Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,
And, being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two
And sleeps again. This is that very Mab-

ROM. Peace, peace;

Thou talk'st nothing.

MER. True, I talk of dreams,

Which are the children of an idle brain,

Begot of nothing but vain fantasy,

Which is as thin of substance as the air,

And more inconstant than the wind.

BEN. This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves; Supper is done, and we shall come too late.

ROM. I fear, too early: for my mind misgives

Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars,

Shall bitterly begin his fearful date

With this night's revels, and expire the term
Of a despised life clos'd in my breast
By some vile forfeit of untimely death:
But He, that hath the steerage of my course,
Direct my sail!-On, lusty gentlemen.

[Exeunt, R.

SCENE THIRD.-A Room in Capulet's House. (In First Grooves.)

Enter LADY CAPULET and NURSE.

LADY CAP. Nurse, where 's my daughter? call her forth to me.

NURSE. I bade her come.-What, lamb! what, ladybird!

God forbid!-where 's this girl?-what, Juliet!

Enter JULIET, L. I E.

JUL. How now, who calls?

NURSE.

Your mother.

JUL. Madam, I am here.

What is your will?

LADY CAP. awhile,

This is the matter:-Nurse, give leave

We must talk in secret.-Nurse, come back again;
I have remembered 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.
How long is it now to Lammas-tide?

LADY CAP. A fortnight, and odd days.

NURSE. Even or odd, of all days in the year,
Come Lammas-eve at night, shall be eighteen.
Susan and she,-Heaven rest all Christian souls!—
Were of an age.-Well, Susan is with Heaven;
She was too good for me:

I remember it well.

'Tis since the earthquake now fifteen years;
And she was wean'd, I never shall forget it,—
My lord and you were then at Mantua:-
She then 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-Heaven 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 holy dam,
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 CAP. Enough of this; I pray thee, hold thy peace. NURSE. Yes, madam; yet I cannot choose but laugh, And, pretty fool, it stinted, and said—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 thou com'st to age.
JUL. And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, say I.
NURSE. Peace, I have done.

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 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.
LADY CAP. Well, think of marriage now;
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 CAP. Verona's summer hath not such a flower. NURSE. Nay, he 's a flower; in faith, a very flower. LADY CAP. What say you? can you love the gentleman?

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 PETER, R. I E.

PETER. 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.

LADY CAP. We follow thee.--Juliet, the county stays.