Reading Help THE TRAGEDY OF ROMEO AND JULIET
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! `
` `
` Enter Benvolio and Romeo. `
` `
` Ben. Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning; `
` One pain is lessoned by another's anguish; `
` Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning; `
` One desperate grief cures with another's languish. `
` Take thou some new infection to thy eye, `
` And the rank poison of the old will die. `
` Rom. Your plantain leaf is excellent for that. `
` Ben. For what, I pray thee? `
` Rom. 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- God-den, good fellow. `
` Serv. God gi' go-den. I pray, sir, can you read? `
` Rom. Ay, mine own fortune in my misery. `
` Serv. Perhaps you have learned it without book. But I pray, can `
` you `
` read anything 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. He reads. `
` `
` 'Signior Martino and his wife and daughters; `
` County Anselmo 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 and Livia; `
` Signior Valentio and His cousin Tybalt; `
` Lucio and the lively Helena.' `
` `
` [Gives back the paper.] A fair assembly. 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 ask'd 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 `
` Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lov'st; `
` With all the admired beauties of Verona. `
` Go thither, and with unattainted eye `
` Compare her face with some that I shall show, `
` And I will make thee think thy swan a crow. `
` 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 heretics, be burnt for liars! `
` One fairer than my love? The all-seeing sun `
` Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun. `
` Ben. Tut! you saw her fair, none else being by, `
` Herself pois'd with herself in either eye; `
` But in that crystal scales let there be weigh'd `
` Your lady's love against some other maid `
` That I will show you shining at this feast, `
` And she shall scant show well that now seems best. `
` Rom. I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, `
` But to rejoice in splendour of my own. [Exeunt.] `
` `
` `
` `
` `
` Scene III. `
` Capulet's house. `
` `
` Enter Capulet's Wife, and Nurse. `
` `
` Wife. 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. `
` `
` Jul. How now? Who calls? `
` Nurse. Your mother. `
` Jul. Madam, I am here. `
` What is your will? `
` Wife. 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. `
` Wife. 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 is not fourteen. How long is it now `
` To Lammastide? `
` Wife. 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!) `
` 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 wean'd (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, an I should live a thousand yeas, `
` I never should forget it. 'Wilt thou not, Jule?' quoth he, `
` And, pretty fool, it stinted, and said 'Ay.' `
` Wife. 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 bad 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.' `
` Jul. 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 nurs'd. `
` An I might live to see thee married once, I have my wish. `
` Wife. Marry, that 'marry' is the very theme `
` 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 would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat. `
` Wife. 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. `
` Wife. Verona's summer hath not such a flower. `
` Nurse. Nay, he's a flower, in faith- a very flower. `
` Wife. 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' 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 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 `
` Wife. 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 Servingman. `
` `
` Serv. Madam, the guests are come, supper serv'd up, you call'd, `
` my `
` young lady ask'd for, the nurse curs'd in the pantry, and `
` everything in extremity. I must hence to wait. I beseech you `
` follow straight. `
` Wife. We follow thee. Exit [Servingman]. `
` Juliet, the County stays. `
` Nurse. Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days. `
` Exeunt. `
` `
`
` 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! `
` `
` Enter Benvolio and Romeo. `
` `
` Ben. Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning; `
` One pain is lessoned by another's anguish; `
` Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning; `
` One desperate grief cures with another's languish. `
` Take thou some new infection to thy eye, `
` And the rank poison of the old will die. `
` Rom. Your plantain leaf is excellent for that. `
` Ben. For what, I pray thee? `
` Rom. 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- God-den, good fellow. `
` Serv. God gi' go-den. I pray, sir, can you read? `
` Rom. Ay, mine own fortune in my misery. `
` Serv. Perhaps you have learned it without book. But I pray, can `
` you `
` read anything 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. He reads. `
` `
` 'Signior Martino and his wife and daughters; `
` County Anselmo 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 and Livia; `
` Signior Valentio and His cousin Tybalt; `
` Lucio and the lively Helena.' `
` `
` [Gives back the paper.] A fair assembly. 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 ask'd 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 `
` Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lov'st; `
` With all the admired beauties of Verona. `
` Go thither, and with unattainted eye `
` Compare her face with some that I shall show, `
` And I will make thee think thy swan a crow. `
` 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 heretics, be burnt for liars! `
` One fairer than my love? The all-seeing sun `
` Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun. `
` Ben. Tut! you saw her fair, none else being by, `
` Herself pois'd with herself in either eye; `
` But in that crystal scales let there be weigh'd `
` Your lady's love against some other maid `
` That I will show you shining at this feast, `
` And she shall scant show well that now seems best. `
` Rom. I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, `
` But to rejoice in splendour of my own. [Exeunt.] `
` `
` `
` `
` `
` Scene III. `
` Capulet's house. `
` `
` Enter Capulet's Wife, and Nurse. `
` `
` Wife. 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. `
` `
` Jul. How now? Who calls? `
` Nurse. Your mother. `
` Jul. Madam, I am here. `
` What is your will? `
` Wife. 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. `
` Wife. 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 is not fourteen. How long is it now `
` To Lammastide? `
` Wife. 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!) `
` 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 wean'd (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, an I should live a thousand yeas, `
` I never should forget it. 'Wilt thou not, Jule?' quoth he, `
` And, pretty fool, it stinted, and said 'Ay.' `
` Wife. 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 bad 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.' `
` Jul. 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 nurs'd. `
` An I might live to see thee married once, I have my wish. `
` Wife. Marry, that 'marry' is the very theme `
` 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 would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat. `
` Wife. 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. `
` Wife. Verona's summer hath not such a flower. `
` Nurse. Nay, he's a flower, in faith- a very flower. `
` Wife. 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' 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 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 `
` Wife. 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 Servingman. `
` `
` Serv. Madam, the guests are come, supper serv'd up, you call'd, `
` my `
` young lady ask'd for, the nurse curs'd in the pantry, and `
` everything in extremity. I must hence to wait. I beseech you `
` follow straight. `
` Wife. We follow thee. Exit [Servingman]. `
` Juliet, the County stays. `
` Nurse. Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days. `
` Exeunt. `
` `
`