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Ro. Whether to fupper?
Ser. To our house.
Ro. Whofe house?
Ser. My mafters.
Ro. Indeed I fhould haue askt thee that before.
Ser. Now Il'e tel you without asking. My mafter is the great rich Capulet, and if you be not of the house of Mountagues, I pray come and crush a cup of wine. Reft you
Ben. At this fame auncient feaft of Capulets,
Ro. When the deuout religion of mine eye
Ben. Tut you faw her faire none els being by,
Rom. Ile goe along no fuch fight to be showne,
Enter Capulets wife and Nurce.
Wife. Nurce wher's my daughter call her forth to mee. Nurce. Now by my maiden head at twelue yeare old I bad her come, what lamb, what ladie bird, God forbid. Wher's this girle? what Iuliet.
Juliet. How now who cals?
Nurce. Your mother.
Jul. Madame I am here, what is your will?
W. This is the matter. Nurse giue leaue a while, we must talke in fecret. Nurce come back again I haue remembred me, thou'fe heare our counfaile. Thou knoweft my daughters of a prettie age.
Nurce. Faith I can tell her age unto an houre.
Wife. Shee's not fourteene.
Nurce. Ile lay fourteene of my teeth, and yet to my teene be it fpoken, I haue but foure, fhee's not fourteene. How long is it now to Lammas-tide?
Wife. A fortnight and odde days.
Nurce. Euen or odde, of all dayes in the yeare come Lammas eue at night shall she be fourteene. Sufan and fhe God rest all chriftian foules were of an age. Well Sufan is with God, fhe was too good for me: But as I faid on Lammas eue at night shall she be fourteene, that shall shee marie I remember it well. Tis fince the earth-quake nowe eleauen yeares, and she was weand I neuer fhall forget it, of all the daies of the yeare vpon that day: for I had then laid wormewood to my dug, fitting in the fun vnder the doue-houfe wall. My lord and you were then at Mantua, nay I do beare a braine: but as I faid, when it did taft the wormwood on the nipple of my dug, and felt it bitter, pretty foole to fee it teachie and fall
out with dugge. Shake quoth the doue-houfe twas no need I trow to bid me trudge, and fince that time it is a leauen yeare for then could Juliet ftande high lone, nay by the roode, shee could haue wadled yp and downe, for euen the day before shee brake her brow, and then my husband God be with his foule, hee was a merrie man: doft thou fall forward Iuliet? thou wilt fall backward when thou haft more wit: wilt thou not Iuliet? and by my hollidam, the pretty foole left crying and faid I. To fee how a ieaft shall come about, I warrant you if I should liue a hundred yeare, I neuer should forget it, wilt thou not luliet? and by my troth fhe ftinted and cried I.
Juliet. And ftint thou too, I prethee nurce fay I.
Nurce. Well goe thy waies, God marke thee for his grace, thou wert the prettiest babe that euer I nurft, might I but liue to fee thee married once, I haue my wish.
Wife. And that fame marriage nurce, is the theame I meant to talke of: tell me Iuliet, howe stand you affected to be married?
Iul. It is an honor that I dreame not off.
Nurce. An honor! were not I thy onely nurce, I would say thou hadst fuckt wifedome from thy teat.
Wife. Well girle, the noble countie Paris feekes thee for his wife.
Nurce. A man young ladie, ladie fuch a man as all the world, why he is a man of waxe.
Wife. Veronaes fummer hath not fuch a flower.
Nurce. Nay he is a flower, in faith a very flower.
Clowne. Maddam you are cald for, fupper is readie, the nurce curft in the pantrie, all thinges in extreamitie, make haft for I must be gone to waite.
Enter Mafkers with Romeo and a Page.
Ro. What shall this speech bee spoke for our excuse?
Benuoleo. The date is out of fuch prolixitie,
Rom. A torch for me I am not for this aumbling,
Mer. Beleeue me Romeo I must haue you daunce. Rom. Not I beleeue me you haue dancing fhooes With nimble foles, I haue a foule of lead
So ftakes me to the ground I cannot flirre,
Mer. Giue me a cafe to put my visage in, A vifor for a vifor, what care I
What curious eye doth coate deformitie.
Rom. Giue me a torch, let wantons light of hart
Mer. Tut dun's the mouse, the cunftable's old word,
Of this furreuerence loue wherein thou stickst.
Mer. I meane fir in delay,
We burne our lights by night, like lampes by day,
Rom. So we meane well by going to this maske :
But tis no wit to goe.
Mer. Why Romeo may one aske?
Rom. I dreamt a dreame to night.
Rom. Why what was yours?
Mer. That dreamers often lie.
Rom. In bed afleepe while they doe dreame things true.
Ben. Queen Mab whats fhe?
She is the fairies midwife and doth come
O're ladies lips, who dreame on kisses strait :