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Of all the days of the year, upon that day; Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face
For I had then laid wormwood to my dug, And find delight writ there with beauty's pen;
Sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall ; Examine every several lineament,
My lord and you were then at Mantua.

And see how one another lends content;
Nay, I do bear a brain : ---but, as I said,

And what obscur'd in this fair volume lies When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple Find written in the margent of his eyes. Of my dug and felt it bitter, pretty fool ! This precious book of love, this unbound lover, To see it tetchy and fall out with the dug. To beautify him, only lacks a cover : 'Shake,' quoth the dove-house : 'twas no need, The fish lives in the sea, and 'tis much pride I trow,

For fair without the fair within to hide : To bid me trudge :

That book in many's eyes doth share the glory, And since that time it is eleven years ;

That in gold clasps locks in the golden story: For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood, ' So shall you share all that he doth possess, She could have run and waddled all about; By having him making yourself no less. For even the day before she broke her brow : Nurse. No less ! nay, bigger ; women grow by And then my husband, God be with his soul ! A' was a merry man, took up the child :

Lady ('ap. Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' *Yea,' quoth he, .dost thou fall upon thy face? love ? Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more Jul. I'll look to like, if looking liking move ;

But no more deep will I endart mine eve Wilt thou not, Jule ?' and, by my halidom, Than your consent gives strength to make it fly. The pretty wretch left crying, and said 'Ay.'

Enter a Servant. To see now how a jest shall come about! I warrant, an I should live a thousand years, Serv. Madam, the guests are come, supper I never should forget it: “Wilt thou not, Jule?' served up, you called, my young lady asked for, quoth he;

the nurse cursed in the pantry, and every thing And, pretty fool, it stinted and said • Ay.' in extremity. I must hence to wait; I beseech Lady Cap. Enough of this; I pray thee, hold you, follow straight. thy peace.

Lady Cap. We follow thee. Juliet, the county Nurse. Yes, madam. Yet I cannot choose stays. but laugh,

Nurse. Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy To think it should leave crying, and say " Ay days.

Exeunt. 106 And yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow A bump as big as a young cockerel's stone;

SCENE IV.- The Same. A Street. A perilous knock; and it cried bitterly :

Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with fire *Yea,' quoth my husband, ‘fall'st upon thy face? Thou wilt fall backward when thou com'st to

or six Maskers, Torch-bearers, and Others. age;

Rom. What I shall this speech be spoke for Wilt thou not, Jule ?’ it stinted and said • Ay.' our excuse, Jul. And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, Or shall we on without apology?

Ben. The date is out of such prolixity : Nurse. Peace, I have done. God mark thee We'll have no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf, to his grace!

Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath, Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nurs’d: Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper ; An I might live to see thee married once, Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke I have my wish.

After the prompter, for our entrance : Lady Cap. Marry, that ‘marry' is the very But let them measure us by what they will, theme

We'll measure them a measure, and be gone. 19 I come to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet, Rom. Give me a torch: I am not for this How stands your disposition to be married ? ambling;

Jul. It is an honour that I dream not of. Being but heavy, I will bear the light.

Nurse. An honour! were not I thine only nurse, Mer. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you I would say thou had suck'd wisdom from thy dance. teat.

Rom. Not I, believe me: you have dancing Lady Cap. Well, think of marriage now; shoes younger than you,

With nimble soles ; I have a soul of lead Here in Verona, ladies of esteem,

So stakes me to the ground I cannot move. Are made already mothers : by my count,

Mer. You are a lover ; borrow Cupid's wings, I was your mother much upon these years And soar with them above a common bound. That you are now a maid. Thus then in brief, Rom. I am too sore enpierced with his shaft The valiant Paris seeks you for his love. To soar with his light feathers ; and so bound

Nurse. A man, young lady ! lady, such a man I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe : As all the world--why, he's a man of wax. Under love's heavy burden do I sink. Lady Cap. Verona's summer hath not such a Mer. And, to sink in it, should you burden love; flower.

Too great oppression for a tender thing. Nurse. Nay, he's a flower ; in faith, a very Rom. Is love a tender thing ? it is too rough, flower.

Too rude, too boisterous; and it pricks like thorn. Lady Cap. What say you ? can you love the Mer. If love be rough with you, be rough with gentleman ?

love ; This night you shall behold him at our feast; 80 Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.

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say I.

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with you.

Give me a case to put my visage in:

Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes ;

Putting on a mask. And, being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two. A visor for a visor! what care I

And sleeps again. This is that very Mab What curious eye doth quote deformities? That plats the manes of horses in the night; Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me. And bakes the elf-locks in foul sluttish hairs, 90

Ben. Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in Which once entangled much misfortune bodes; But every man betake him to his legs.

This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs, Rom. A torch for me : let wantons, light of That presses them and learns them first to bear, heart,

Making them women of good carriage ; Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels, This is she For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase ; Rom. Peace, peace ! Mercutio, peace ! I'll be a candle-holder, and look on.

Thou talk'st of nothing. The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done.

Mer.

True, I talk of dreams, Mer. Tut! dun's the mouse, the constable's Which are the children of an idle brain, own word :

40 | Begot of nothing but vain fantasy ; If thou art Dun, we'll draw thee from the mire, Which is as thin of substance as the air, Or-save your reverence-love, wherein thou | And more inconstant than the wind, who woos stick'st

Even now the frozen bosom of the north, Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho! And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, Rom. Nay, that's not so.

Turning his face to the dew-dropping south. Mer.

I mean, sir, in delay Ben. This wind you talk of blows us from ourWe waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day. selves; Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits Supper is done, and we shall come too late. Five times in that ere once in our five wits. Rum. I fear, too early ; for my mind misgives

Rom. And we mean well in going to this mask; Some consequence yet hanging in the stars But 'tis no wit to go.

Shall bitterly begin his fearful date Mer.

Why, may one ask? With this night's revels, and expire the term Rom. I dream'd a dream to-night.

Of a despised life clos'd in my breast Mer.

And so did I. 50 By some vile forfeit of untimely death. Rom. Well, what was yours?

But he, that hath the steerage of my course, Mer.

That dreamers often lie. Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen. Rom. In bed asleep, while they do dream Ben. Strike, drum.

Exeunt. things true. Mer. 0! then I see Queen Mab hath been

SCENE V.-The Same. A Hall in CAPULET'S She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes

House. In shape no bigger than an agate-stone

Musicians waiting. Enter Servingmen. On the forefinger of an alderman, Drawn with a team of little atomies

Pirst Serv. Where's Potpan, that he helps not Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep: to take away? He shift a trencher ! he scrape Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners' legs ; a trencher ! The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers ;

Second Serv. When good manners shall lie all The traces, of the smallest spider's web; in one or two men's hands, and they unwashed The collars, of the moonshine's watery beams; too, 'tis a foul thing. Her whip, of cricket's bone; the lash, of film ; First Serv. Away with the joint-stools, remove Her waggoner, a small grey-coated gnat, the court-cupboard, look to the plate. Good Not half so big as a round little worm

thou, save me a piece of marchpane; and, as Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid ;

thou lovest me, let the porter let in Susan GrindHer chariot is an empty hazel-nut,

stone and Nell. Antony! and Potpan! Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,

Second Serv. Ay, boy ; ready. Time out o’ mind the fairies' coach-makers. First Serv. You are looked for and called for, And in this state she gallops night by night 70 asked for and sought for, in the great chamber. Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of Third Serv. We cannot be here and there too. love ;

Cheerly, boys; be brisk awhile, and the longer O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies liver take all.

They retire behind. straight; O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees;

Enter CAPULET, with JULIET and others of his O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream;

house, meeting the Guests and Maskers. Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues, Cap. Welcome, gentlemen! ladies that have Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted their toes

Unplagu'd with corns will have a bout with you. Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose, Ah hal my mistresses, which of you all And then dreams he of smelling out a suit; Will now deny to dance ? she that makes dainty, And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail, she, Tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep, I'll swear, hath corns ; am I come near ye now? Then dreams be of another benefice;

Welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, That I have worn a visor, and could tell And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats, A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, Such as would please ; 'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis Of healths five fathom deep; and then anon

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You are welcome, gentlemen! Come, musicians, Tyb. Why, uncle, 'tis a shame. play.

Cap.

Go to, go to; A hall! a halll give room, and foot it, girls. You are a saucy boy.-- Is 't so, indeed !-

Music plays, and they dance. This trick may chance to scathe you.- I know More light, you knaves! and turn the tables up, what. And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot. You must contrary me! marry, 'tis time. Ah! sirrah, this unlook'd-for sport comes well. Well said, my hearts! You are a princox; go: Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet,

Be quiet, or More light, more light !- For For you and I are past our dancing days;

shame! How long is 't now since last yourself and I I'll make you quiet. What! cheerly, my hearts! Were in a mask?

Tyb. Patience perforce with wilful choler Second Cap. By ’r Lady, thirty years.

meeting Cap. What! man; 'tis not so much, 'tis not Makes my flesh tremble in their different greetso much :

ing. 'Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio,

I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall Come Pentecost as quickly as it will,

Now seeming sweet convert to bitter gall. Erit. Some five-and-twenty years ; and then we Rom. To JULIET. If I profane with my un. mask'd.

worthiest hand Second Cap. 'Tis more, 'tis more: his son is This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this ; elder, sir;

My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand His son is thirty.

To smooth that rough touch with a tender Сар. Will you tell me that?

kiss. His son was but a ward two years ago.

Jul. Good pilgrim, yon do wrong your hand Rom. What lady's that which doth enrich the too much, hand

Which mannerly devotion shows in this; Of yonder night?

For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do Serv. I know not, sir.

touch, Rom. O! she doth teach the torches to burn And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss. bright.

Rom. Have not saints lips, and holy palmers It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night

too? Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear ;

Jul. Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!

prayer. So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, 60 Rom. o! then, dear saint, let lips do what As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows.

hands do ; The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand, They pray, grant thou, lest faith torn to And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand. despair. Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! Jul. Saints do not move, though grant for For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.

prayers' sake. ?'yb. This, by his voice, should be a Montague. Rom. Then move not, while my prayer's effect Fetch me my rapier, boy. What! dares the slave

I take. Come hither, cover'd with an antick face, Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purg'd. To fleer and scorn at our solemnity ?

Kissing her, Now, by the stock and honour of my kin, Jul. Then have my lips the sin that they have To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.

took. Cap. Why, how now, kinsman! wherefore Rom. Sin from my lips ! O trespass sweetly storm you so ?

urg'd! Tyb. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe;

Give me my sin again. A villain that is hither come in spite,

Jul.

You kiss by the book. To scorn at our solemnity this night.

Nurse. Madam, your mother craves a word Cap. Young Romeo is 't ?

with you. Tyb.

'Tis he, that villain Romeo. Rom. What is her mother? Cap. Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone : Nurse,

Marry, bachelor, He bears him like a portly gentleman;

Her mother is the lady of the house, And, to say truth, Verona brags of him

And a good lady, and a wise, and virtuous : To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth. I nurs'd her daughter that you talk'd withal; I would not for the wealth of all the town I tell you he that can lay hold of her Here in my house do him disparagement; Shall have the chinks. Therefore be patient, take no note of him:

Rom.

Is she a Capulet? It is my will ; the which if thou respect, O dear account! my life is my foe's debt. Show a fair presence and put off these frowns, Ben. Away, be gone; the sport is at the best. An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.

Rom. Ay, so I fear ; the more is my unrest. Tyb. It fits, when such a villain is a guest : Cap. Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone; I'll not endure him.

We have a trifling foolish banquet towards. Сар.

He shall be endur'd : Is it e'en so? Why then, I thank you all ;
What! goodman boy ; I say he shall, go to ; I thank you, honest gentlemen ; good night.
Am I the master here, or you ? go to. 80 More torches here! Come on then, let's to
You'll not endure bim ! God shall mend my bed.
soul!

Ah! sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late;
You 'll make a mutiny among my guests! I'll to my rest.
You will set cock a-boop! you 'll be the man!

Exeunt all but JULIET and Nurse.

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Mer.
Nay, I'll conjure too.
Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover!
Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh:
Speak but one rime and I am satisfied;

night.

Cry but Ay me!' pronounce but 'love' and See! how she leans her cheek upon her hand:
O! that I were a glove upon that hand
That I might touch that cheek.

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Jul.

Ay me!

Jul. By whose direction found'st thou out Rom.

She speaks : this place? 0! speak again, bright angel ; for thou art Rom. By love, that first did prompt me to As glorious to this night, being o'er my head, inquire ; As is a winged messenger of heaven

He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes. Unto the white-upturned wond'ring eyes I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far Of mortals, that fall back to gaze on him As that vast shore wash'd with the furthest sea, When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds, would adventure for such merchandise. And sails upon the bosom of the air.

Jul. Thou know'st the mask of night is on Jul. O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou

my face, Romeo ?

Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek Deny thy father, and refuse thy name ;

For that which thou hast heard me speak toOr, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,

night. And I'll no longer be a Capulet.

Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny Rom. Aside. Shall I hear more, or shall I speak What I have spoke : but farewell compliment! at this?

Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say Ay,' Jul. 'Tis but thy name that is my enemy ; And I will take thy word ; yet, if thou swear'st, Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. Thou may'st prove false; at lovers' perjuries, sa What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, 40 They say, Jove laughs. () gentle Romeo ! Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part

If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully : Belonging to a man. 0! be some other name: Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won, What's in a name ? that which we call a rose I'll frown and be perverse and say thee nay, By any other name would smell as sweet ; So thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world. So Romeo would, were he not Romeo callid, In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond, Retain that dear perfection which he owes And therefore thou may'st think my haviour Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name ;

light: And for thy name, which is no part of thee, But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true Take all myself.

Than those that have more cunning to be Rom. I take thee at thy word.

strange. Call me but love, and I'll be new baptiz’d; 50 I should have been more strange, I must conHenceforth I never will be Romeo.

fess, Jul. What man art thou, that thus bescreen'd But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware, in night

My true love's passion: therefore pardon me, So stumblest on my counsel ?

And not impute this yielding to light love, Rom.

By a name Which the dark night hath so discovered. I know not how to tell thee who I am:

Rom. Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, That tips with silver all these fruit-tree topsBecause it is an enemy to thee :

Jul. O! swear not by the moon, the inconstant Had I it written, I would tear the word.

moon, Jul. My ears have yet not drunk a hundred That monthly changes in her circled orb, words

Lest that thy love prove likewise variable. Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the Rom. What shall I swear by ? sound:

Jul.

Do not swear at all: Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague ? 60 Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, Rom. Neither, fair maid, if either thee dis- Which is the god of my idolatry, like.

And I'll believe thee. Jul. How cam'st thou hither, tell me, and Rom.

If my heart's dear lorewherefore ?

Jul. Well, do not swear. Although I joy in The orchard walls are high and hard to climb; thee, And the place death, considering who thou art, I have no joy of this contract to-night : If any of my kinsmen find thee here.

It is too rash, too unadvis'd, too sudden; Rom. With love's light wings did I o'er-perch Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be these walls;

Ere one can say it lightens. Sweet, good night! For stony limits cannot hold love out,

This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, And what love can do that dares love attempt ; May prove a beauteous Power when next we Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me.

meet. Jul. If they do see thee they will murder Good night, good night! as sweet repose and thee.

rest Rom. Alack! there lies more peril in thine | Come to thy heart as that within my breast ! eye

Rom. O! wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied! Than twenty of their swords: look thou but Jul. What satisfaction canst thou have tosweet,

night? And I am proof against their enmity.

Rom. The exchange of thy love's faithful row Jul. I would not for the world they saw thee for mine. here.

Jul. I gave thee mine before thou didst Rom. I have night's cloak to hide me from request it;

And yet I would it were to give again. And but thou love me, let them find me here: Rom. Would'st thou withdraw it? for what My life were better ended by their hate.

purpose, love? Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love. Jul. But to be frank, and give it thee again.

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