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Rom. When the devout Religion of mine Eye
Ben. Tut, tut, you faw her fair, none elfe being by,
SCENE II. Capulet's Houfe.
Enter Lady Capulet, and Nurse.
La. Cap. Nurfe, where's my Daughter? call her forth
Nurfe. 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 ?
Jul. Madam, I am here, what is
La. Cap. This is the inatter-Nurfe, give leave a while, we must talk in Secret. Nurfe come back again, I have remembred me, thouf hear my Counfel: Thou knoweft my Daughter's of a pretty Age.
Nurfe. Faith, I can tell her Age unto an Hour.
Nurfe. Even or odd, of all Days in the Year, come Lam. mas-Eve at Night fhall he be fourteen. Susan and the, God eft all Chriftian Souls, were of an Age. Well Sufan is with
God, fhe was too good for me, But as I faid, on LammasEve at Night fhall he be fourteen, that shall fhe, marry, I remember it well. 'Tis fince the Earthquake now eleven Years, and fhe was wean'd, I never fhall 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, I do bear a Brain. But as I faid, when it did tafte the Wormwood on the Nipple of my Dug, and felt it bitter, pretty Fool, to fee it teachy, and fall out with the Dug. Shake, Quoth the Dove-houfe- -'twas no need I trow to bid me trudge; and fince that time it is eleven Years, for then the could ftand 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, doft 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 Jeft fhall come about. I warrant, and I fhould live a thousand Years, I never fhould forget it: Wilt thou not, Juliet, quoth he? and pretty Fool, it ftinted, and faid, Ay. La. Cap. Enough of this, I pray thee hold thy Peace. Nurfe. Yes, Madam, yet I cannot chufe but laugh, to think it should leave crying, and fay, 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'ft upon thy Face? thou wilt fall backward when thou comeft to Age; wilt thou not, Juliet ? It stinted, and said, Ay.
Ful. And ftint thee too, I pray thee, Nurfe, fay I. Nurfe. Peace, I have done: God mark thee to his Grace, thou waft the prettieft Babe that e'er I nurft, and I might live to fee thee married once, I have my wish.
La. Cap. Marry, that marry is the very Theam -
ful. 'Tis an hour that I dream not of
Nurfe. An hour, were not I thine only Nurfe, I would fay that thou hadft fuck'd Wisdom from thy Teat.
La. Cap. Well, think of Marriage now; younger than you
Nurfe. A Man, young Lady, Lady, fuch a Man, as all the World-Why he's a Man of Wax.
La. Cap. Verona's Summer hath not fuch a Flower.
And fee how one, another lends Content;
Nurfe. No lefs! nay bigger; Women grow by Men.
Enter a Servant.
Ser. Madam, the Guefts are come, Supper ferv'd up, you call'd, my young Lady ask'd for, the Nurfe curft in the Pantry, and every thing in extremity; I muft hence to wait, I befeech you follow ftraight.
La. Cap. We follow thee. Juliet, the County ftays.
Enter Romeo, Mercutio, Benvolio, with five or fix other Maskers, Torch-bearers.
Rom. What, fhall this Speech be fpoke to our excuse?
Ben. The date is out of fuch prolixity,
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.
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 Shaft,
Mer. And to fink in it, fhould 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,
A Vifor for a Vifor; what care I
Ben. Come knock and enter, and no fooner in,
Rom. A Torch for me, let Wantons, light of Heart,
The Game was ne'er fo fair, and I am Done.
Mer. Tut, Dun's the Moufe, the Conftables own word; If thou art Dun, we'll draw thee from the Mire;
Or, fave your Reverence, Love, wherein thou stickest
Mer. I mean, Sir, we delay.
We wafte our Lights in vain, lights, lights, by day;
Rom. And we mean well in going to this Mask;
Mer. Why, may one ask?
Rom. I dreamt a Dream to Night.
Rom. Well; what was yours?
Mer. That Dreamers often Lie.
Rom. 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 fhe comes in shape no bigger than an Agat-ftone 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 Grafhoppers; her Trace of the fmallest 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 ftate fhe gallops Night by Night, through Lovers Brains; and then they dream of Love. On Countries Knees, that dream on Curfies ftrait: O'er Lawyers Fingers, who ftrait dream on Fees: O'er Ladies Lips, who ftrait on Kiffes dream, which oft the angry Mab with Blifters plagues, because their Breaths with Sweet-meats tainted are. Sometimes the gallops o'er a Courtier's Nofe, and then dreams he of smelling out a Suit: And fometimes comes fhe with a Tith-pigs Tail, tickling a Parfon's Nofe as he lies afleep; then he dreams of another Benefice. Sometimes fhe 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