And vice fometimes by actions dignified.
Within the infant rind of this small flower
Poifon hath refidence, and medicine power:
For this being fmelt, with that fenfe chears each part;
Being tafted, flays all fenfes with the heart.
Two fuch oppofed foes encamp them ftill
In man, as well as herbs; Grace and rude Will:
And where the worfer is predominant,

Full foon the canker death eats up that plant.
Enter Romeo.

Rom. Good-morrow, father.

Fri. Benedicite.

What early tongue fo fweet faluteth me?
Young fon, it argues a diftemper'd head,
So foon to bid good-morrow to thy pillow;
Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye,
And where care lodgeth, fleep will never bide;
But where with unfluft brain unbruifed youth
Doth couch his limbs, there golden fleep refides,
Therefore thy earlinefs affureth me

Thou art up rouz'd by fome diftemp'rature;
What is the matter, fon?

Rom. I tell thee ere thou ask it me again;
I have been feafting with mine enemy,

Where to the heart's core one hath wounded me,
That's by me wounded; both our remedies

Within thy help and holy phyfick lie.

Fri. Be plain, good fon, and homely in thy drift.
Rom. Then plainly know, my heart's dear love is fet

On Juliet, Capulet's fair daughter;

As mine on hers, fo hers is fet on mine:

When, and where, and how

We met, we woo'd, and made exchange of vows,
I'll tell thee as we pafs; but this I beg

That thou confent to marry us to day.

Fri. Holy faint Francis, what a chance is this!
But tell me, fon, and cal thy reafon home,
Is not this love the offpring of thy folly,
Bred from thy wantonnefs and thoughtless brain?
Be heedful, youth, and fee you ftop betimes,
Jeft that thy rafh ungovernable paffions,
O'er leaping duty, and each due regard,

Hurry

Hurry thee on, thro' fhort liv'd, dear-bought pleasures, To curelefs woes, and lafting Penitence.

Rom. I pray thee, chide me not, fhe whom I love, Doth give me grace for grace, and love for love: Do thou with heav'n fmile upon our union; Do not withhold thy benediction from us, But make two hearts, by holy marriage one. Fri. Well, come, my pupil, go along with me, In one refpect I'll give thee my affiftance; For this alliance may fo happy prove,

To turn your houfhold rancour to pure love.

Rom. Olet us hence, Love stands on sudden hafte. Fri. Wifely and flow; they ftumble that run fast.

Mer.

S CE NE IV.

The STREET.

Enter Benvolio and Mercutio.

W

[Exeunt.

HERE the devil fhould this Romeo be? came he not home to night?

Ben. Not to his father's; I fpoke with his man. Mer. Why that fame pale hard-hearted wench, that Rofaline, torments him fo, that he will fure run mad. Ben. Tibalt, the kinfman to old Capulet, hath fent a letter to his father's houfe.

Mer. A challenge, on my life.

Ben. Romeo will answer it.

Mer. Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead! ftabb'd with a white wench's black eye, run through the ear with a love-fong, the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow-boy's but-shaft; and is he a man to encounter Tibalt ?

Ben. Why, what is Tibalt ?

Mer. Oh he's the courageous captain of compliments; he fights as you fing prick-fong, keeps time, diftance, and proportion; efts his minum one, two, and the third in your bofom; the very butcher of a filk button, a duellift, a duelli; a gentleman of the very nrft houfe, of the

B 2

first

firft and fecond caufe; ah the immortal paffado, the punto reverfo, the hay

Ben. The what?

Mer. The pox of fuch antick lifping affected phantafies, thefe new tuners of accents : a very tall man

-Jefu, a very good blade, a very good whore.- Why, is not this a lamentable thing, grandfire, that we should be thus afflicted with thefe ftrange flies, thefe fashion-mongers, thefe pardonnez-moy's?

Ben. Here comes Romeo.

Mer. Without his roe, like a dried herring. O fleft, flesh, how art thou finished ? Now is he for the numbers that Pitarch flowed in: Laura to his lady was but a kitchen-wench; marry fhe had a better love to berime her: Dido a dowdy: Cleopatra a gipfie, Helen and Hero hildings and harlots: Thisbe a gray eye or fo, but not to the purpose.

Enter Romeo.

Signior Romco, bonjour, there's a French falutation for you
Romeo. Good morrow to you both.

Mer. You gave us the counterfeit fairly last night.
Rom. What counterfeit did I give you?

Mer. The flip, Sir, the flip: can you not conceive? Rom. Pardon, Mercutio, my bufinefs was great, and in fuch a cafe as mine, a man may ftrain curtefy.

Enter Nurfe and her Man.

Rom. A fayle! a fayle!

Mer. Two, two, a fhirt and a fmock.

Nurfe. Peter.

Pet. Anon.

Nurfe. My fan, Peter.

Mer. Do, good Peter, to hide her face.

Nurfe. Good ye good-morrow, gentlemen.

Mer. God ye good den, fair gentlewoman.

Nurse. Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I

may find young Romeo?

Rom. I am the youngest of that name, for fault of a worse.

Nurfe. You fay well.

If you be he, fir,

I defire fome confidence with you.

Ben. She will indite him to Supper presently.

Mer.

Mer. A bawd, a bawd, a bawd: So ho.
Rom. What haft thou found?

Mer. No, hare, Sir, but a bawd. Romeo, will you come to your father's? we'll to dinner thither. Rom, I will follow you.

Mer. Farewel, ancient lady.

[Exeunt Mercutio and Benvolio. Nurfe. I pray you, Sir, what faucy merchant was this that was fo full of his roguery?

Rom. A gentleman, nurfe, that loves to hear himself talk, and will fpeak more in a minute, than he will ftand to in a month.

Nurfe. An' a fpeak any thing against me, I'll take him down an' he were luftier than he is, and twenty fuch jacks and if I cannot, I'll find those that fhall. Scurvy knave, I am none of his flirt gills; and thou must stand by too, and fuffer every knave to use me at his pleasure. [To her man.

Pet. I faw no man ufe you at his pleasure if I had, my weapon fhould quickly have been out, I warrant you I dare draw as foon as another man, if I fee occafion in a good quarrel, and the law on my fide.

Nurf. Now, afore God, I am fo vext, that every part about me quivers Scurvy knave! Pray you, Sir, a word: and as I told you, my young lady bid me enquire you out. What the bid me fay, I will keep to myfelf: but firft let me tell ye, if ye fhould lead her into fool's paradife, as they fay, it were a very grofs kind of behaviour, as they fay; for the gentlewoman is young, and therefore if you fhould deal double with her, truly it were an ill thing to be offered to any gentle

woman.

Rom. Commend me to thy lady and miftrefs, I protest unto thee

Nurfe Good heart, and i'faith I will tell her as much; Lord, lord, fhe will be a joyful woman.

Rom. What wilt thou tell her, Nurfe? thou doft not mark me.

Nurse. I will tell her, Sir, that you do proteft; which, as I take it, is a gentleman like offer.

Rom. Bid her devife fome means to come to fhrift this afternoon.

And there fhe fhall at friar Lawrence's cell
Be fhriv'd and married; here's for thy pains.
Nurfe. No truly, Sir, not a penny.
Rom. Go to, I say, you shall.

Nurfe. This afternoon, Sir? well, fhe fhall be there. Rom. And ftay, good nurfe, behind the abbey wall : Within this hour my man fhall be with thee,

And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair,
Which to the high top gallant of my joy
Must be my convoy in the fecret night.
Farewel, be trufty, and I'll quit thy pains.

Nurfe. Well, Sir, my miftrefs is the fweeteft lady; lord, lord, when t'was a little prating thing- .0, there is a noble man in town, one Paris, that would fain lay knife aboard; but the, good foul, had as lieve fee a toad, a very toad, as fee him: I anger her fometimes, and tell her that Paris is the properer man; but I'll warrant you, when I fay fo, fhe looks as pale as any clout in the verfal world.

Rem. Commend me to my lady-
Nurfe. A thousand times.

Pet. Anon.

Peter ?

[Exit Romeo.

[Exeunt.

Nurfe. Take my fan, and go before.

Jul. T

Capulet's House.

Enter Juliet.

HE clock ftruck nine, when I did fend the nurse:

In half an hour fhe promis'd to return.

Perchance fhe cannot meet him--That's not fo
Oh fhe is lame; love's heralds fhould be thoughts,
Which ten times fafter glide than the fun-beams,
Driving back fhadows over lowring hills.
Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love,
And therefore hath the wind-fwift Cupid wings.
Now is the fun upon the highmoft hill
Of this day's journey, and from nine till twelve-
Is three long hours- and yet he is not come;
Had the affections and warm youthful blood,

She'd