Lady Capulet

Nurse, where's my daughter? call her forth to me.

Nurse to Juliet

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 to Juliet

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 remembered me, thou s' hear our counsel.

Thou know'st my daughter's of a pretty age.

Nurse to Juliet

Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour.

Lady Capulet

She's not fourteen.

Nurse to Juliet

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 Lammas-tide?

Lady Capulet

A fortnight and odd days.

Nurse to Juliet

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 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 tetchy and fall out 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 stand high-lone; nay, by the 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 holidame,

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 years,

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 to Juliet

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 cockerel'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 to Juliet

Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace!

Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nursed:

An 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 honour that I dream not of.

Nurse to Juliet

An honour! 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.

Nurse to Juliet

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 to Juliet

Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower.

Lady Capulet

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 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 to Juliet

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 a Servant.

Servant

Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you called, my young lady asked for, the nurse cursed in the pantry, and every thing in extremity. I must hence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight.

Lady Capulet

We follow thee. Exit Servant.

Juliet, the county stays.

Nurse to Juliet

Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days. Exeunt.