[Scene 3. A room in Capulet’s house.]
Enter Capulet’s Wife, and Nurse.
Lady Capulet. Nurse, where’s my daughter? Call her forth to me.
Nurse. Now, by my maidenhead at twelve year old,
I bade her come. What,° lamb! What, ladybird!
God forbid, where’s this girl? What, Juliet!
Enter Juliet.
Juliet. How now? Who calls?
Nurse. Your mother.
Juliet. Madam, I am here. What is your will?
Lady Capulet. This is the matter—Nurse, give leave
awhile;
We must talk in secret. Nurse, come back again.
I have rememb’red me; thou ’s° hear our counsel.
Thou knowest my daughter’s of a pretty age.
Nurse. Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour.
Lady Capulet. She’s not fourteen.
Nurse. I’ll lay fourteen of my teeth—
And yet, to my teen° be it spoken, I have but
four—
She’s not fourteen. How long is it now
To Lammastide?°
Lady Capulet. A fortnight and odd days.
1.3.3 What (an impatient call) 9 thou ’s thou shalt 13 teen sorrow 15 Lammastide August 1
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!)
Were of an age.° Well, Susan is with God;
She was too good for me. But, as I said,
On Lammas Eve at night shall she be fourteen;
That shall she, marry; I remember it well.
’Tis since the earthquake° now eleven years;
And she was weaned (I never shall forget it),
Of all the days of the year, upon that day;
For I had then laid wormwood to my dug,
Sitting in the sun under the dovehouse wall.
My lord and you were then at Mantua.
Nay, I do bear a brain.° But, as I said,
When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple
Of my dug and felt it bitter, pretty fool,
To see it tetchy° and fall out with the dug!
Shake, quoth the dovehouse!° ’Twas no need, I
trow,°
To bid me trudge.
And since that time it is eleven years,
For then she could stand high-lone;° 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 soul!
’A° was a merry man) took up the child.
“Yea,” quoth he, “dost thou fall upon thy face?
Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit;
Wilt thou not, Jule?” and, by my holidam,°
The pretty wretch left crying and said, “Ay.”
To see now how a jest shall come about!
I warrant, and I should live a thousand years,19 of an age the same age 23 earthquake (see Introduction) 29 I do bear a brain i.e., my mind is still good 32 tetchy irritable 33 Shake, quoth the dovehouse i.e., the dovehouse (which the Nurse personifies) began to tremble 33 trow believe 36 high-lone alone 36 rood cross 40 ’A he 43 holidam holy thing, relic
I never should forget it. “Wilt thou not, Jule?”
quoth he,
And, pretty fool, it stinted° and said, “Ay.”
Lady Capulet. Enough of this. I pray thee hold thy
peace.
Nurse. Yes, madam. Yet I cannot choose but laugh
To think it should leave crying and say, “Ay.”
And yet, I warrant, it had upon it° brow
A bump as big as a young cock’rel’s stone;
A perilous knock; and it cried bitterly.
“Yea,” quoth my husband, “fall’st upon thy face?
Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age,
Wilt thou not, Jule?” It stinted and said, “Ay.”
Juliet. And stint thou 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 nursed.
And I might live to see thee married once,
I have my wish.
Lady Capulet. Marry,° that “marry” is the very theme
I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet,
How stands your dispositions to be married?
Juliet. It is an honor that I dream not of.
Nurse. An honor? Were not I thine only nurse,
I would say thou hadst sucked wisdom from thy
teat.
Lady Capulet. 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.
48 stinted stopped 52 it its 63 Marry indeed 72 much upon these years the same length of time
Nurse. A man, young lady! Lady, such a man
As all the world—Why, he’s a man of wax.°
Lady Capulet. Verona’s summer hath not such a
flower.
Nurse. Nay, he’s a flower, in faith—a very flower.
Lady Capulet. 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 obscured 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’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.
Lady Capulet. Speak briefly, can you like of° Paris’
love?
Juliet. 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 Servingman.
Servingman. Madam, the guests are come, supper76 man of wax man of perfect figure 83 married lineament harmo- nious feature 84 one another lends content all enhance one another 86 margent marginal commentary 87 unbound (1) without cover (2) uncaught 88 only lacks a cover i.e., only a wife is lacking 89-90 The fish . . . to hide i.e., the fair sea is made even fairer by hiding fair fish within it 96 like of be favorable to
served up, you called, my young lady asked for,
the nurse cursed° in the pantry, and everything in
extremity. I must hence to wait.° I beseech you
follow straight.° [Exit.]
Lady Capulet. We follow thee. Juliet, the County
stays.°
Nurse. Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days.
Exeunt.
[Scene 4. A street.]
Enter Romeo, Mercutio, Benvolio, with five or six other Maskers; Torchbearers.
Romeo. What, shall this speech be spoke for our
excuse?°
Or shall we on without apology?
Benvolio. The date is out of such prolixity.°
We’ll have no Cupid hoodwinked° with a scarf,
Bearing a Tartar’s painted bow of lath,
Scaring the ladies like a crowkeeper;°
/>
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° and be gone.
Romeo. Give me a torch. I am not for this ambling.
Being but heavy, I will bear the light.
102 the nurse cursed i.e., because she is not helping 103 to wait to serve 104 straight straightway 105 the County stays the Count is waiting 1.4.1 shall . . . excuse i.e., shall we introduce ourselves with the customary prepared speech 3 date . . . prolixity i.e., such wordiness is out of fashion 4 hoodwinked blindfolded 6 crowkeeper boy set to scare crows away 7 without-book prologue memorized speech 9 measure judge 10 measure them a measure dance one dance with them
Mercutio. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you
dance.
Romeo. 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.
Mercutio. You are a lover. Borrow Cupid’s wings
And soar with them above a common bound.°
Romeo. I am too sore enpiercèd 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.
Mercutio. And, to sink in it, should you burden love—
Too great oppression for a tender thing.
Romeo. Is love a tender thing? It is too rough,
Too rude, too boist’rous, and it pricks like thorn.
Mercutio. 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.
A visor for a visor! What care I
What curious eye doth quote deformities?°
Here are the beetle brows° shall blush° for me.
Benvolio. Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in
But every man betake him to his legs.°
Romeo. A torch for me! Let wantons light of heart
Tickle the senseless rushes° with their heels;
For I am proverbed with a grandsire phrase,°
I’ll be a candleholder° and look on;18 bound (1) leap (2) limit 21 pitch height (as in a falcon’s soaring) 28 Prick love for pricking i.e., give love the spur in return 29-31 Give . . . deformities i.e., give me a bag for my mask. A mask for a mask. What do I care who notices my ugliness? 32 beetle brows bushy eyebrows (?) 32 blush be red, i.e., be grotesque 34 betake him to his legs begin dancing 36 rushes (used for floor covering) 37 grandsire phrase old saying 38 candleholder attendant
The game was ne’er so fair, and I am done.°
Mercutio. Tut! Dun’s the mouse, the constable’s own
word!°
If thou art Dun,° we’ll draw thee from the mire
Of this sir-reverence° love, wherein thou stickest
Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight,° ho!
Romeo. Nay, that’s not so.
Mercutio. I mean, sir, in delay
We waste our lights° in vain, like lights by day.
Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits
Five times in that° ere once in our five wits.
Romeo. And we mean well in going to this masque,
But ’tis no wit° to go.
Mercutio. Why, may one ask?
Romeo. I dreamt a dream tonight.°
Mercutio. And so did I.
Romeo. Well, what was yours?
Mercutio. That dreamers often lie.
Romeo. In bed asleep, while they do dream things true.
Mercutio. 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
39 The game . . . done i.e., I’ll give up dancing, now that I have enjoyed it as much as I ever shall 40 Dun’s . . . word (Mercutio puns on Romeo’s last clause, saying in effect “You are not done [i.e., “dun”: “dark,” by extension, “silent”] but the mouse is, and it’s time to be quiet) 41 Dun (a common name for a horse, used in an old game, “Dun is in the mire,” in which the players try to haul a heavy log) 42 sir-reverence save your reverence (an apologetic expression, used to introduce indelicate expressions; here used humorously with the word “love”) 43 burn daylight delay 45 lights (1) torches (2) mental faculties 47 that i.e., our good meaning 49 ’tis no wit it shows no discretion 50 tonight last night 53 Queen Mab Fairy Queen (Celtic)
On the forefinger of an alderman,
Drawn with a team of little atomies°
Over men’s noses as they lie asleep;
Her wagon spokes made of long spinners’° legs,
The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers;
Her traces, of the smallest spider web;
Her collars, of the moonshine’s wat’ry beams;
Her whip, of cricket’s bone; the lash, of film;°
Her wagoner, a small gray-coated gnat,
Not half so big as a round little worm
Pricked from the lazy finger of a maid;°
Her chariot is an empty hazelnut,
Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,°
Time out o’ mind the fairies’ coachmakers.
And in this state° she gallops night by night
Through lovers’ brains, and then they dream of
love;
On courtiers’ knees, that dream on curtsies 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 breath with sweetmeats tainted are.
Sometime she gallops o’er a courtier’s nose,
And then dreams he of smelling out a suit;°
And sometime comes she with a tithe pig’s° tail
Tickling a parson’s nose as ’a lies asleep,
Then he dreams of another benefice.°
Sometime she driveth o’er a soldier’s neck,
And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,
Of healths° five fathom deep; and then anon
Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,
And being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two57 atomies tiny creatures 59 spinners spiders 63 film fine filament of some kind 65-66 worm . . . maid (lazy maids were said to have worms breeding in their fingers) 68 joiner squirrel or old grub (both woodworkers and adept at hollowing out nuts) 70 state stately array 78 suit i.e., a petitioner, who may be induced to pay for the courtier’s influence 79 tithe pig tenth pig (considered part of the parson’s tithe) 81 benefice income, “living” 85 healths toasts
And sleeps again. This is that very Mab
That plats the manes of horses in the night
And bakes the elflocks° in foul sluttish hairs,
Which once untangled much misfortune bodes.
This is the hag,° when maids lie on their backs,
That presses them and learns them first to bear,
Making them women of good carriage.°
This is she—
Romeo. Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace!
Thou talk’st of nothing.
Mercutio. True, I talk of dreams;
Which are the children of an idle brain,
Begot of nothing but vain fantasy;°
Which is as thin of substance as the air,
And more inconstant than the wind, who woos
Even now the frozen bosom of the North
And, being angered, puffs away from thence,
Turning his side to the dew-dropping South.
Benvolio. This wind you talk of blows us from our-
selves.
Supper is done, and we shall come too late.
Romeo. I fear, too e
arly; for my mind misgives
Some consequence° yet hanging in the stars
Shall bitterly begin his fearful date°
With this night’s revels and expire the term
Of a despisèd life, closed in my breast,
By some vile forfeit of untimely death.°
But he that hath the steerage of my course
Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen!
Benvolio. Strike, drum.
They march about the stage, and [retire to one side].
90 elflocks hair tangled by elves 92 hag nightmare or incubus 94 carriage (1) posture (2) capacity for carrying children 98 fantasy fancy 107 consequence future event 108 date duration (of the consequence or event) 109-11 expire . . . death (the event is personified here as one who deliberately lends in expectation that the borrower will have to forfeit at great loss)
[Scene 5. A hall in Capulet’s house.]
Servingmen come forth with napkins.°
First Servingman. Where’s Potpan, that he helps not
to take away? He shift a trencher!° He scrape a
trencher!
Second Servingman. When good manners shall lie all
in one or two men’s hands, and they unwashed too,
’tis a foul thing.
First Servingman. Away with the join-stools,° remove
the court cupboard,° look to the plate. Good thou,
save me a piece of marchpane,° and, as thou loves
me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell.
Anthony, and Potpan!
Second Servingman. Ay, boy, ready.
First Servingman. You are looked for and called for,
asked for and sought for, in the great chamber.
Third Servingman. We cannot be here and there too.
Cheerly, boys! Be brisk awhile, and the longer liver
take all. Exeunt.
Enter [Capulet, his Wife, Juliet, Tybalt, Nurse, and]
all the Guests and Gentlewomen to the Maskers.
Capulet. Welcome, gentlemen! Ladies that have their
toes1.5.s.d. (although for reference purposes this edition employs the con ventional post-Elizabethan divisions into scenes, the reader is reminded that they are merely editorial; in the quarto this stage direction is part of the preceding one) 2 trencher wooden plate 7 join-stools stools fitted together by a joiner 8 court cupboard sideboard, displaying plate 9 marchpane marzipan, a confection made of sugar and almonds
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