Rom. When the devout Religion of mine Eye
Maintains such Falsehood, then turn Tears to Fire,
And these who often drown'd could never die,
Transparent Hereticks be burnt for Liars.
One fairer than my Love! the all-feeing Sun
Ne'er faw her Match, since first the World begun.

Ben. Tut, tut, you saw her fair, none else beingby,
Her felf pois'd with her felf in either Eye :
But in those Chrystal Scales, let there be weigh'd,
Your Ladies love against some other Maid,
That I will shew you, shining at this Feaft,
And she'll shew scant well, that now shews best.
Rom. I'll go along, no such fight to be shewn,
But to rejoice in splendor of mine own,

SCENE II, 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 Years old, I bad her come; what Lamb, what Lady-bird, God forbid. Where's this Girl? what, Juliet?

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 Secret. Nurse come back again, I have remembred me, thous hear my Counsel: Thou knowest 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 Teeth 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 Lam-
mas-Eve at Night shall she be fourteen. Susan and the, God
rest all Chriftian Souls, were of an Age. Well, Susan is with
God,

God, she was too good for me. But as I said, on LammasEve at Night shall she be fourteen, that shall the, marry, I remember it well. 'Tis fince the Earthquake now eleven Years, and she 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, do bear a Brain. But as I faid, when it did taste the Wormwood on the Nipple of my Dug, and felt it bitter, pretty Fool, to see it teachy, and fall out with the Dug. Shake, Q10th the Dove-house -'twas no need I trow to bid me trudge; and since that time it is eleven Years, for then the could stand alone, nay, byth' Rood she could have run, and wadled all about; for even the Day before the broke her Brow, and then my Husband, God be 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 haft more Wit, wilt thou not, Juliet? And by my Holy-dam, the pretty Wretch left Crying, and faid, Ay; to fee now how a Jest shall come about. I warrant, and I should live a thousand Years, I never should forget it: Wilt thou not, Juliet, quoth he? and pretty Fool, it stinted, and said, 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 Cockrels 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, Juliet? It stinted, and said, 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, and I might live to fee thee married once, I have my wish.

La. Cap. Marry, that marry is the very Theam I came to talk of; tell me, Daughter Juliet, How stands your disposition to be married? Jul. 'Tis an hour that I dream not of. Nurse. An hour, were not I thine only Nurse, I would fay that thou hadst suck'd Wisdom from thy Teat.

La. Cap.

A

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.

La. Cap. Verona's Summer hath not such a Flower.
Nurse. Nay he's a Flower, in faith a very Flower.

La. Cn. What say you, can you love the Gentleman ? This Night you shall behold him at our Feast,

Read o'er the Volume of young Paris's Face,
And find Delight writ there with Beauty's Pen;

Examine every feveral Lineament,

And fee how one, another lends Content;
And what obfcur'd in this fair Volume lyes,
Find written in the Margent of his Eyes.
This precious Book of Love, this unbound Lover,
To beautifie him, only lacks a Cover.
The Fath lives in the Sea, and 'tis much Pride
For fair withour, the fair within to hide:
That Book in manies 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 your self no less.

Nurse. Noless! 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.

Ser. Madam, the Guests are come, Supper serv'd up, you call'd, my young Lady ask'd for, the Nurse curst in the Pantry, and every thing in extremity; I must hence to wait, I beseech you follow straight.

[Exit.

La. Cap. We follow thee. Juliet, the County stays.
Nurse. Go, Girl, seek happy Nights to happy Days.

[Exeunt.

Enter

Enter Romeo, Mercutio, Benvolio, with five or fix other

Maskers, Torch-bearers.

Rom. What, shall this Speech be spoke to our excuse?
Or shall we on without Apology ?

Ben. The date is out of such prolixity,
We'll have no Cupid hood-wink'd with a Scarf,
Bearing a Tartar's painted Bow of Lath,
Scaring the Ladies like a Crow-keeper.
But let them measure us by what they will,
We'll measure them a Measure 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 Sole of Lead,.
So flakes me to the Ground I cannot move.
Mer. You are a Lover, borrow Cupid's Wings,
And foar with them above a common bound.

Rom. I am too fore impierced with his Shafr,
To foar with his light Feathers, and to bound:
I cannot bound a pitch above dull Woe;
Under Love's heavy burden do I fink.

Mer. And to fink in it, should you burden Love,
Too great oppreffion for a tender thing.

Rom. Is Love a tender thing? it is too rough, Too rude, too boisterous, it pricks like Thorn.

Mer. If Love be rough with you, be rough with Love,

Prick Love for pricking, and you Love beat down :
Give me a Cafe 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.

Ben. Come knock and enter, and no fooner in,

But every Man betake him to his Legs.

Rom. A Torch for me, let Wantons, light of Heart,
Tickle the senseless Rushes with their Heels;
For I am proverb'd with a Grand-fire Phrafe ;
I'll be a Candle-lighter, and look on,
The Game was ne'er so fair, and I am Done.

1

Mer. Tut, Dun's the Mouse, the Constables own word;

If thou art Dun, we'll draw thee from the Mire;

Or,

Or, fave your Reverence, Love, wherein thou stickeft
Up to the Ears: Come, we burn day-light, ho.

Rom. Nay, that's not fo.

Mer. I mean, Sir, we delay.

We wafte our Lights in vain, lights, lights, by days
Take our good meaning, for our Judgment fits
Five things in that, e'er once in our fine 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.

Mer. And fo did I.

Rom. Well; what was yours?

Mer. That Dreamers often Lie.

Rons. In Bed asleep; while they do dream things true.

Mer. O then I fee Queen Mab hath been with you: She is the Fairies Mid-wife, and the comes in shape no bigger than an Agat-stone on the Fore-finger of an Alderman, drawn with a teem of little Atomies, over Mens Noses as they lye afleep: Her Waggon Spokes made of long Spinners Legs; the Cover, of the Wings of Grashoppers; her Trace of the smallest Spider's Web; her Collars of the Moonshine's watry beams; her Whip of Cricket's bone; the Lash of film; her Waggoner a small gray-coated Gnat, not half fo big as a round little Worm, prickt from the lazy Finger of a Woman. Her Chariot is an empty HazelNut, made by the Joyner 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 Countries Knees, that dream on Cursies strait: O'er Lawyers Fingers, who strait dream on Fees : O'er Ladies Lips, who strait on Kisses dream, which oft the angry Mab with Blisters plagues, because their breaths with Sweet-meats tainted are. Sometimes she gallops o'er a Courtier's Nose, and then dreams he of smelling out a Suit: And fometimes comes the with a Tith-pigs Tail, tickling a Parson's Nose as he lies asleep; then he dreams of another Benefice. Sometimes she driveth o'er a Soldier's Neck, and then dreams he of cutting Foreign Throats, of Breaches, Ambufcadoes, Spanish Blades; of Healths five Fathom deep; and then anon drums in his Ears, at which he