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How long is it now to Lammas-tide ?
La. Cap. A fortnigbt and odd days.
Nurse • Even or odd, of all days in the year, come • Lammas eve at night, fhall the be fourteen. Susan ' and she (God reft all Christian souls !) were of an age, Well, Susan is with God, she was too good for
But, as I said, on Lammas-eve at night thall the be fourteen, that (hall the, marry, I remember it well. ' 'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years, and he • was wean'd; I never lhall forget it; of all the days in • the year, upon that day ; for t had then laid worm• wood to my dug, sitting in the sun under the dove. • house 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 teachy, and fall qnt with • the dug. Shake, quoth the Dove-house-'twas no • need I trow to bid me trudge; and since that time it • is eleven years, for then she could ftand alone ; nay, 6 by th'rood, she could have run, and waddled all about; • for even the day before she broke her brow, and then ..my husbaod (God be with his soul, a' was a merry
man took up the child; Yea, quotb be, dost thou fail upon thy face ; thou wilt fall backward when thou
haft more wit, wilt thou not Julé ? and by asy holy • dam, the pretty wretch leti crying, and faid Ay. To • see now how a jelt shall come about. I warrant, • an' i should live a thousand years, I fhould not forget • it. Wilt thou not, Julé ? quoth he; and, pretty fool, o it stinted, and said Ay.'
La. uap. 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 cockrel's ftone: a perilous knock, and it cried bitterly. Yea, quoth my hutband, fall'It upon thy face? thou wilt fall backwards when thou comeft to age, wilt thou not Julé ? it tunted, and laid Ay.
Jul. And stint thee 100, pray thee, nurse, say I.
Nurse. Peace, I have done : God mark thee to his Thou wait the prettielt babe that e'er I nurs’d. [grace ! An's might live to see thee married once,
I bave my wish.
La. Cap. And that fame marriage is the very theme I came to talk of. Tell me, caughter Juliet, How stands your disposition to be married?
jul. It is an honour that I dream not of.
Nurje. An honour? were not I thine only nurse, I'd lay chou hadît suck'd wildom from thy teat.
La. Cap. Well, think of marriage now; younger Here in Verona, ladies of esteem,
[than you Are made already mothers. By my count, I was your niother much upon these
years That you are now a maid. Thus, then, in brief ; The valiant Paris fecks 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.
Jul. I'll look to like, if looking liking move.
Enter a Servant. Ser. Madam, the gueits are come, supper servd up, you call'd, my young Lady ask'd for, the nurse curs'd
in the pantry, and every thing in extremity. I must hence to wait. I bescech you, follow strait. * [Exeunt.
SCE N E V. A street before Capulet's house. Enter Romeo, Mercutio, Benvolio, with five or fix
other maskers, torch-bearers, and drums.
Rom. M'hat, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse? Or Niall we on without apology ?
Ben. The date is out of such prolixity.
After the prompter, for our entrance,
Rom. Give me a torch, I am not for this ambling.
Mer. You are a lover ; borrow Cupid's wings,
Rom. I am too fore enpearced with his shaft,
Mer. And to link in it, should you burthen love :
Rom. Is love a tender ching? 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;
Ben. Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in,
Rom. A torch for me, Let wantons, light of heart,
Rom. I dreani'd a dream to-night.
and look on..
Mer. Tut! dun's the mouse, the constable's own word;
Mer. I niean, Sir, in delay
Rom. And we mean well in going to this mak;
Mer. Why, may one ask ?
And in this flate fire gallops, night by night,
Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love; « On courtiers' knees, that dream on courtsies (irait :
O’er lawyers' fingers, who strait dreain on fees : • 'O'er ladies' lips, who Arait ön kisles dream ; . Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,
Because their breaths with sweet-meats tainted are. • Sometimes the galloys o'er a curtier's nose;" • And then dreams he of smelling out a suit: . And sometimes comes the with a tithe-pig's tail, • Tickling the parson as he lies fleep;
Then dreams he of another benefice, • Soinetines the driveth o'er a foldier's neck, • And then he dreams of cutting foreign throats, • Of breaches, ambuicadoes, Spanish blades, . Of healths five fathoin deep; and then anon
Drums in his ears, at which he starts and wakes ; • And being thus, frightest, swears a prayer or two, • And ficeps again. This is that very Wab • That places the manes of horses in the night, • And cakes the elf-locks in foul flittish hairs, • Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes, • This is the hay, when maids lie on their backs, • That presses them, and learns them first 10 bear ; · Making them women of good carriage. 6 This is the
kom, Peace, peace, Merculio, peace; Thou talk It of nothing.
Mier. True, I talk of dreams ;
Ben. This wind you talk of, blows us from ourselves;
kom. I fear too early; for my mind misgives,