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I came to talk of :-Tell me, daughter Juliet,
How stands your disposition to be married?

Jul. It is an honour that I dream not of.

Nurse. An honour! 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, such a man,
As all the world-Why, he's a man of wax.4

La. Cap. Verona's summer hath not such a flower. Nurse. Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower. La. Cap. What say you? can you love 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 every married lineament,

And see how one another lends content;
And what obscur'd in this fair volume lies,
Find written in the margin 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 :

4 Well made, as if he had been modelled in wax.

s The comments on ancient books were always printed in the margin.

i. e. Is not yet caught, whose skin was wanted to bind him.

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That book in many's eyes doth share the glory,
That in gold clasps locks in the golden story;
So shall you share all that he doth
possess,

By having him, making yourself no less.

Nurse. No less? nay, bigger; women grow by

men.

La. Cap. Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love?
Jul. I'll look to like, if looking liking move :
But no more deep will I endart mine eye,

Than your consent gives strength to make it fly.

Enter a Servant.

Serv. Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you called, my young lady asked for, the nurse cursed in the pantry, and every thing in extremity. I must hence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight. La. Cap. We follow thee.-Juliet, the county stays. Nurse., Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

A Street.

Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with five or six Maskers, Torch-Bearers, and Others.

Rom. What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse?

Or shall we on without apology?

Ben. The date is out of such prolixity:7
We'll have no Cupid hood-wink'd with a scarf,

7 i. e. Long speeches are out of fashion.

Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath,
Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper; 8
Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke
After the prompter, for our entrance :

But, let them measure us by what they will,
We'll measure them a measure,9 and be gone.

Rom. Give me a torch,'-I am not for this ambling;

Being but heavy, I will bear the light.

Mer. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.
Rom. Not I, believe me; you have dancing shoes,
With nimble soles: I have a soul of lead,
So stakes me to the ground, I cannot move.

Mer. You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings,
And soar with them above a common bound.
Rom. I am too sore enpierced with his shaft,
To soar with his light feathers; and so bound,
I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe:
Under love's heavy burden do I sink.

Mer. And, to sink in it, should you burden love; Too great oppression for a tender thing.

Rom. Is love a tender thing? it is too rough, Too rude, too boist'rous; and it pricks like thorn. Mer. If love be rough with you, be rough with

love;

Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.-Give me a case to put my visage in :

[Putting on a Mask.

8 A scare-crow, a figure made up to frighten crows.

9 A dance.

A torch-bearer was a constant appendage to every troop of

maskers.

A visor for a visor!—what care I,

What curious eye doth quote deformities?

Here are the beetle-brows, shall blush for me.

Ben. Come, knock, and enter; and no sooner

in,

But every man betake him to his legs.

Rom. A torch for me: let wantons, light of heart, Tickle the senseless rushes3 with their heels; For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase,I'll be a candle-holder, and look on,—

The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done.4

Mer. Tut! dun's the mouse, the constable's own word :

If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire
Of this (save reverence) love, wherein thou stick'st
Up to the ears.-Come, we burn day-light, ho.
Rom. Nay, that's not so.

Mer.
I mean, sir, in delay
We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day.
Take our good meaning; for our judgment sits
Five times in that, ere once in our five wits.

Rom. And we mean well, in going to this mask; But 'tis no wit to go.

Mer.

Why, may one ask?

Rom. I dreamt a dream to-night.

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3 It was anciently the custom to strew rooms with rushes.

-I am done for,

This is equivalent to phrases in common use

it is over with me.

Rom. In bed, asleep, while they do dream things

true.

Mer. O, then, I see, queen Mab hath been with

you.

She is the fairies midwife; and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate-stone On the fore-finger of an alderman, Drawn with a team of little atomies 5 Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep : Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners' legs; The cover, of the wings of grashoppers; The traces, of the smallest spider's web; The collars, of the moonshine's watry beams: Her whip, of cricket's bone; the lash, of film : Her waggoner, a small grey-coated gnat, Not half so big as a round little worm Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid: Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut, Made by the joiner squirrel, or old grub, Time out of mind the fairies coach-makers. And in this state she gallops night by night Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love: On courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight: O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees: O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream; Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues, Because their breaths with sweet-meats tainted are. Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose, And then dreams he of smelling out a suit: And sometimes comes she with a tithe-pig's tail,

5 Atoms.

VOL. X.

D

A place in court.

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