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

Now by my maidenhead, at twelve year old I bade her 354373come.-- [To Juliet]

[Calls loudly]What, lamb! What, ladybird! God forbid, 355374where's this girl? What, Juliet!

How now, who calls?

Your mother.

Madam, I am here. What is your will?

This is the matter. Nurse, give leave a while; we must talk 361380in secret. [Nurse starts to leave.]Nurse, come back again. I have remembered me; 362381thou's hear our counsel. Thou knowest my daughter's of a 363382pretty age.

Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour.

She's not fourteen.

I'll lay fourteen of my teeth, and yet, to my teen be it 367386spoken, I have but four, she's not fourteen. 369387How long is it now to Lammas-tide?

A fortnight and odd days.

Even or odd, of all days in the year, come Lammas Eve at 372390night shall she be fourteen. Susan and she, God rest all Christian souls, 373391were of an age. Well, Susan is with God; she was too good for me. But 374392as I said, on Lammas Eve at night shall she be fourteen, that shall 375393she, marry, I remember it well. 'Tis since the earthquake now 377394eleven years, and she was weaned--I never shall forget it--of all the days 378395of the year upon that day, for I had then laid wormwood to my 379396dug, sitting in the sun under the dovehouse wall. My lord and 380397you were then at Mantua--nay, I do bear a brain. But, as I said, 381398when it did taste the wormwood on the nipple of my dug and 383399felt it bitter, pretty fool, to see it tetchy and fall out with the dug. 384400"Shake," quoth the dovehouse; 'twas no need, I trow, to bid me trudge. 385401And since that time it is eleven years, for then she could stand high-lone, 386402nay, by th'rood, she could have run and waddled all about, for even 388403the day before, she broke her brow, and then my husband--God be with 389404 his soul; 'a was a merry man--took up the child; "Yea," quoth he, "dost 390405thou fall upon thy face? Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more 391406wit, wilt thou not, Jule?" And by my holydam, the pretty wretch left 393407crying, and said "Ay." To see now how a jest shall come about! I warrant, 394408an I should live a thousand years, I never should forget it: "Wilt thou 395409not, Jule?" quoth he, and, pretty fool, it stinted, and said "Ay."

Enough of this; I pray thee hold thy peace.

Yes, Madam, yet I can not choose but laugh, to think it 399412should leave crying, and say "Ay," and yet I warrant it had upon its brow, a 400413bump as big as a young cockerel's stone, a perilous knock, and it cried 401414bitterly. "Yea," quoth my husband, "Fall'st upon thy face? Thou wilt fall 402415backward when thou comest to age, wilt thou not, Jule?" It stinted, 404416and said "Ay."

And stint thou too, I pray thee, Nurse, say I.

Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace, thou 407419wast the prettiest babe that ere I nursed. An I might live to see thee 408420married once, I have my wish.

Marry, that marry is the very theme

1.3.19410422I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet,

1.3.20411423How stands your dispositions to be married?

It is an hour that I dream not of.

An hour! Were not I thine only Nurse, I would say thou 414426hadst sucked wisdom from thy teat.

Well, think of marriage now. Younger than you

1.3.24416428Here in Verona, ladies of esteem

1.3.25417429Are made already mothers. By my count,

1.3.26418430I was your mother much upon these years

1.3.27419431That you are now a maid. Thus, then, in brief:

1.3.28420432The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.

A man, young lady, lady, such a man as all the world--422434why he's a man of wax.

Verona's summer hath not such a flower.

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

What say you? Can you love the gentleman?

1.3.33426438This night you shall behold him at our feast.

1.3.34427439Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face

1.3.35428440And find delight, writ there with beauty's pen;

1.3.36429441Examine every married lineament

1.3.37430442And see how one another lends content;

1.3.38431443And what obscured in this fair volume lies,

1.3.39432444Find written in the margent of his eyes.

1.3.40433445This precious book of love, this unbound lover,

1.3.41434446To beautify him, only lacks a cover.

1.3.42435447The fish lives in the sea, and 'tis much pride

1.3.43436448For fair without the fair, within to hide.

1.3.44437449That book in many's eyes doth share the glory

1.3.45438450That in gold clasps locks in the golden story.

1.3.46439451So shall you share all that he doth possess,

1.3.47440452By having him, making your self no less.

No less? Nay, bigger; women grow by men.

Speak briefly; can you like of Paris' love?

I'll look to like, if looking liking move.

1.3.51444456But no more deep will I endart mine eye,

1.3.52445457Than your consent gives strength to make fly.

Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you called, 448459my young lady asked for, the Nurse cursed in the pantry, and 449460everything in extremity. I must hence to wait; I beseech you 450461follow straight.

We follow thee. Juliet, the County stays.

Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days.