[He reads the list.]

SIgnior Martino, and his wife and daughters; Count Anfelm, and his beauteous sisters; the lady widow of Vitruvio; Signior Placentio, and his lovely neices; Mercutio, and his brother Valentine; mine uncle Capulet, bis wife and daughters; my fair neice Rosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio, and his cousin Tybalt; Lucio, and the lively Helena.

- A fair assembly; whither should they come ? Serv. Up.

Rom. Whither? to supper ?

Serv. To our house.

Rom. Whose house ?

Serv. My master's.

Rom. Indeed, I should have ask'd you that before. Serv. Now I'll tell you without asking. My master is the great rich Capulet, and if you be not of the House of Montagues, I pray, come and crush a cup [Exit. of wine. Rest you merry.

1

Ben. At this fame ancient Feast of Capulet's
Sups the fair Rosaline, whom thou so lov'ft;
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.

$ A fair offembly; whither from the Servant's answer, than Romeo's question; and must undoubtedly be placed to him.

should they come ?

Serv. Up.
Rom. Whither? to supper?

Serv. To our house. Romeo had read over the lift of invited guests; but how should he know they were invited to supper? This comes much more aptly

WARBURTON.

When a man reads a lift of guests, he knows that they are invited to something, and, without any extraordinary good fortune, may guess, to a fupper.

Rom.

Rom. When the devout religion of mine eye Maintains fuch falfhoods, then turn tears to fires! And these, who, often drown'd, could never die, Transparent hereticks, be burnt for liars! One fairer than my love! th' all feeing Sun Ne'er faw her match, since first the world begun.

Ben. Tut! tut! you saw her fair, none else being

But in those crystal scales, let there be weigh'd

by,

Herself pois'd with herself, in either eye;

Your lady-love against some other maid,

That I will shew you, shining at this feast,

And she will shew scant well, that now shews best.

Rom. I'll go along, no such sight to be shewn;

But to rejoice in splendor of mine own.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Changes to Capulet's House.

Enter Lady Capulet, and Nurse.

La. Cap. N

URSE, where's my daughter? call her forth to me.

Nurse. Now (by my maiden-head, at twelve Years old) I bade her come; what, lamb! what, lady-bird! God forbid!-where's this girl? what, Juliet ?

6-let there be weigh'd

Your lady's love against some other maid,] But the comparison was not betwixt the love that Romeo's mistress paid him, and the perfon of any other young woman; but betwixt Ro

meo's mistress herself, and fome
other that should be match'd a-
gainst her. The poet therefore
must certainly have wrote;
Your lady-love against some
other maid.

WARBURTON.

C2

Enter

Enter Juliet.

Jul. How now, who calls?
Nurse. Your mother.

Jul. Madam,, I am here, what is your will?

La. Cap. This is the matter Nurse, give leave a while, we must talk in fecret-Nurse, come back again, I have remember'd 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.
La. Cap. She's not fourteen.

Nurse. I'll lay fourteen of my teeth, (and yet 7 to my teen be it spoken, I have but four;) she's not fourteen; how long is it now to Lammas-tide? La. Cap. 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 the (God rest all christian fouls!) were of an age. Well, Sufan is with God, she was too good for me. But as I faid, on Lammas-eve at night shall the be fourteen, that shall she, marry, I remember it well. 'Tis fince the earthquake now eleven years, and the was wean'd; I never shall forget it, of all the days in the year, upon that day; for I had then laid worm*wood to my dug, fitting in the Sun under the Dovehouse wall, my Lord and you were then at Mantua. -Nay, I do bear a brain. But, as I faid, when it did tafte the worm-wood on the nipple of my dug, and felt it bitter, pretty fool, to fee it teachy, and fall out with the dug. Shake, quoth the Dove-house'rwas no need, I trow, to bid me trudge; and fince that time it is eleven years, for then she could stand alone; nay, by th' 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 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 hast more wit, wilt thou not, Julé? and by my holy dam, the pretty wretch left crying, and faid, ay; To fee now, how a jeft fhall come about. - I warrant, an' I should live a thousand years, I should not forget it: Wilt thou not, Julé, quoth he? and, pretty fool, it stinted, and faid,

ay.

La. Cap. Enough of this, I pray thee, hold thy peace.

Nurse. Yes, Madam; yet I cannot chuse but laugh, to think it should leave crying, and say, ay; and yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow a bump as big as a young cockrel's stone; a perilous knock, and it cried bitterly. Yea, quoth my husband, fall'st upon thy face? thou wilt fall backward when thou comeft to age, wilt thou not; Julé? it stinted, and faid, ay. Jul. And stint thee 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 nurst.
An' I might live to fee thee married once,

I have my wish.

La. Cap. And that fame marriage is the very

theam

I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet,
How stands your difpofition to be married?
Jul. It is an hour that I dream not of.

i

I have restored the genuine word, which is more feemly from a girl to her mother. Your, fire, and fuch words as are vulgarly uttered in two fyllables, are used as dissyllables by Shakespeare.

Nurse. An hour? were not I thine only nurse, I'd say, thou hadst suck'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,
I was your mother much upon these years
That you are now a maid. Thus, then, in brief;
The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.

Nurse. A man, young lady, lady, fuch a man
As all the world-Why, he's a man of wax.
La. Cap. Verona's fummer hath not fuch a flower.
Nurse. Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower.
La. Cap. What say you, can you like the Gentle-
man?

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 ev'ry sev'ral Lineament,
And fee, how one another lends Content :
And what obfcur'd in this fair Volume lies,
Find 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 pride,
For Fair without the Fair within to hide.
That Book in many Eyes doth share the Glory,
* That in gold clasps locks in the golden Story.
So, shall you share all that he doth poffefs,
By having him, making yourself no less.

La. Cap. What suy you, &c.] This ridiculous speech is entirely added fince the first edition.

a book in the darker ages of popery much read, and doubtless often exquifitely embellished, but of which Canus, one of the popish doctors, proclaims the author to have been homo ferrei oris, plumbei cordis.

Nurse.