all about; for even the day before she broke her brow; and then my husband, (God be with his foul, a' was a merry man,) took up the child; yea quoth he, doft thou fall upon thy face? thou wilt fall backward when thou haft more wit; wilt thou not, Julé? and by my holy dam, the pretty wretch left crying, and said, ay; To fee now how a jeft fhall come about I warrant, and I should live a thoufand Years, I should not forget it: Wilt thou not, Julé, quoth he and pretty fool, it ftinted, and said, ay. ful. And ftint thee too, I pray thee peace. Nurfe. Peace, I have done; God mark thee to his grace. Thou waft the prettiest babe that e'er I nurst : And I might live to see thee married once, I have my wish. La. Cap. And that fame marriage is the very theme I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet, How ftands your disposition to be married? Jul. It is an honour that I dream not of. Nurfe. An honour? were not I thine only nurse, I'd say thou hadft fuck'd wisdom from thy teat. La. Cap. Well, think of marriage now; younger than you Here in Verona, ladies of esteem, Are made already mothers. By my 'count, Nurfe. A man, young lady, lady, fuch a man Greg. Madam, new guests are come, and brave ones, all in masks. You are call'd; my young lady ask'd for, the Nurfe curs'd in the pantry; fupper almost ready to be ferv'd up, and every thing in extremity. I must hence and wait. La. Cap. We follow thee. [Exeunt. SCENE SCENE VI. A Hall in Capulet's House. The Capulets, Ladies, Guefts, and Maskers, are discover'd. 7Elcome, Gentlemen. Ladies, that have your feet Cap. W Unplagued with corns, we'll have a bout with you. A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear, Such as would please; 'tis gone; 'tis gone; 'tis gone! [Mufick plays, and they dance. More light ye knaves, and turn the tables up; And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot. Ah, Sirrah, his unlook'd for fport comes well. Nay fit, nay fit, good coufin Capulet, For you and I are past our dancing days: 2 Cap. By'r lady, thirty years. Cap. What, man! 'tis not fo much, 'tis not so much! 'Tis fince the nuptial of Lucentio, Come Pentecoft as quickly as it will, Some five and twenty years, and then we mask'd. 2 Cap. 'Tis more, 'tis more; his fon is elder, Sir: His fon is thirty. Cap. Will you tell me that? His fon was but a ward two years ago. Rom. Coufin Benvolio, do you mark that Lady, which Doth enrich the hand of yonder gentleman. Ben. I do. Rom. Oh, fhe doth teach the torches to burn bright! Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night, Like a rich Jewel in an Ethiops' ear; The measure done, I'll watch her to her place, Tib. Tib. This by his voice fhould be a Mountague, Cap. Why, how now, kinfman, wherefore ftorm you thus ? Tib. Uncle, this is a Mountague, our foe; Tib. That villain Romeo. Cap. Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone, Cap. He fhall be endur'd. Be quiet, Coufin, or I'll make you quiet Tib. Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting, [A Dance here. Rom. If I prophane with my unworthy hand This holy fhrine, the gentle fine is this. [To Juliet. [Kif Jul. Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, For palm to palm is holy palmer's kifs. Rom, Have not faint lips, and holy palmers too? prayers. Nurfe. Madam, your mother craves a Ben. What is her mother? Nurfe. Marry, batchelor, [Kifs. word with you. [To her nurse, Her Her mother is the lady of the house, Ben. Is fhe a Capulet? Romeo, let's be gone, the fport is over. [Ex. Rom. Ay, fo I fear, the more is my mishap. Jul. What's he that is now going out of door? Jul. What's he that follows here, that would not dance? Nurfe. I know not. Jul. Go ask his name. If he be married, My grave is like to be my wedding-bed. Nurfe. His name is Romeo, and a Mountague, The only fon of your great enemy. Jul. My only love fprung from my only hate! Too early feen, unknown; and known too late. Nurfe. What's this? what's this? Ful. A rhime I learn'd e'en now Of one I talk'd withal. Nurfe. Anon, anon [One calls within, Juliet. Come, let's away, the ftrangers are all gone. [Exeunt, ACT ACT II. SCENE I. The STRE E T. ΑΝΙ Enter Romeo alone. ROMEO. C go forward when my heart is here? Turn back, dull earth, and find thy center out. [Exit. Ben. Romeo, my coufin Romeo. Mer. He is wife, And on my life hath ftol'n him home to bed. Ben. He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall, Call, good Mercutio. Mer. Nay, I'll conjure too. Why, Romeo! humours! madman! paffion! lover! Speak but one Rhime, and I am satisfied. I conjure only but to raise him up. anger him Ben. Come, he hath hid himself among these trees, To be conforted with the hum'rous night. Mer. Romeo, good night, I'll to my truckle bed, This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep: Come, fhall we go? Ben. Go then, for 'tis in vain To feek him here that means not to be found. [Exeunt. SCENE |