These happy masks,3 that kiss fair ladies' brows, 4 SCENE II. A Street. Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Servant. Cap. And Montague is bound as well as I, Par. Of honourable reckoning are you both; Par. Younger than she are happy mothers made. 3 These happy masks, &c.] i. e. the masks worn by female spectators of the play. What doth her beauty serve,] i. e. what end does it answer? She is the hopeful lady of my earth:] This is a Gallicism: Fille de terre is the French phrase for an heiress. But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart, One more, most welcome, makes my number more. And like her most, whose merit most shall be: My house and welcome on their pleasure stay. [Exeunt CAPULET and PARIS. Serv. Find them out, whose names are written here? It is written-that the shoemaker should meddle with his yard, and the taylor with his last, the fisher with his pencil, and the painter with his nets; but I am sent to find those persons, whose names are here writ, and can never find what names the writing person hath here writ. I must to the learned:-In good time. My will to her consent is but a part;] To, in this instance, signifies in comparison with, in proportion to. 7 Inherit at my house ;] To inherit, in the language of Shakspeare's age, is to possess. Enter BENVOLIO and ROMEO. Ben. Tut, man! one fire burns out another's burning, One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish ; Rom. Your plantain leaf is excellent for that. Rom. 8 For your broken shin. Ben. Why, Romeo, art thou mad? Rom. Not mad, but bound more than a madman is: Shut up in prison, kept without my food, Whipp'd, and tormented, and-Good-e'en, good fellow. Serv. God gi' good c'en.-I pray, sir, can you read? Rom. Ay, mine own fortune in my misery. Serv. Perhaps you have learn'd it without book : But I pray, can you read any thing you see? Rom. Ay, if I know the letters, and the language. Serv. Ye say honestly; Rest you merry! Rom. Stay, fellow: I can read. [Reads. Signior Martino, and his wife, and daughters; County Anselme, and his beauteous sisters; The lady widow of Vitruvio; Signior Placentio, and his lovely nieces Mercutio, and his brother Valentine; Mine uncle Capulet, his wife, and daughters; My fair niece Rosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio, and his cousin Tybalt; Lucio, and the lively Helena. 8 Your plantain leaf is excellent for that,] The plantain leaf is a blood-stauncher, and was formerly applied to green wounds. A fair assembly; [Gives back the Note.] Whither should they come? Serv. Up. Rom. Whither? Serv. To supper; to our house. Rom. Whose house? Serv. My master's. Rom. Indeed, I should have asked 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 of wine. Rest you merry. [Exit. Ben. At this same ancient feast of Capulet's Rom. When the devout religion of mine eye Maintains such falsehood, 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! the all-seeing sun crush a cup of wine,] This cant expression seems to have been once common among low people. We still stay, in cant Innguage-to crack a bottle. Your lady's love-] Your lady's love is the love you bear to vour lady. SCENE III. A Room in Capulet's House. Enter Lady CAPULET and Nurse. La. Cap. Nurse, where's my daughter? call her forth to me. Nurse. Now, by my maiden-head,-at twelve year old, I bade her come.-What, lamb! what, lady-bird! God forbid !—where's this girl?—what, Juliet! Jul. How now, who calls? Nurse. Jul. What is your will? Enter JULIET. Your mother. Madam, I am here. La. Cap. This is the matter:-Nurse, give leave awhile, We must talk in secret.-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, to my teen2 be it spoken, I have but four, She is 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 she,-God rest all Christian souls!--- to my teen] To my sorrow. |