Romeo and Juliet Act I Scene III
Original
Modern
Notes
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SCENE III. Room in Capulet’s House.
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SCENE III. A room in Capulet’s house.
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[Enter Lady Capulet and Nurse.]
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[Enter Lady Capulet and the Nurse.]
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LADY CAPULET. Nurse, where’s my daughter? Call her forth to me.
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LADY CAPULET. Nurse, where’s my daughter? Call her out to me.
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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!
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NURSE. Now, by my virginity when I was twelve years old, I told her to come. What, lamb! What ladybird! God forbid! Where’s this girl? What, Juliet!
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[Enter Juliet.]
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[Enter Juliet.]
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JULIET. How now, who calls?
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JULIET. What is it? Who’s calling?
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NURSE. Your mother.
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NURSE. Your mother.
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JULIET. Madam, I am here. What is your will?
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JULIET. Madam, I am here. What do you want?
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LADY CAPULET. This is the matter. Nurse, give leave awhile, We must talk in secret. Nurse, come back again, I have remember’d me, thou’s hear our counsel. Thou knowest my daughter’s of a pretty age.
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LADY CAPULET. This is the business. Nurse, leave us for a while—we must talk in private. Nurse, come back again; I’ve remembered—you shall hear our discussion. You know my daughter is of a good age.
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NURSE. Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour.
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NURSE. Indeed, I can tell her age to the exact hour.
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LADY CAPULET. She’s not fourteen.
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LADY CAPULET. She’s not fourteen.
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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 Lammas-tide?
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NURSE. I’ll wager fourteen of my teeth—and yet, to my sorrow be it said, I have only four left—she is not fourteen. How long is it now until Lammas-tide?
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LADY CAPULET. A fortnight and odd days.
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LADY CAPULET. A fortnight and a few odd days.
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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 alone; 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 holidame, The pretty wretch left crying, and said ‘Ay’. To see now how a jest shall come about. I warrant, and 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.’
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NURSE. Even or odd, of all the days in the year, on Lammas Eve at night she will be fourteen. Susan and she—God rest all Christian souls!—were the same age. Well, Susan is with God; she was too good for me. But as I said, on Lammas Eve at night she will be fourteen; that she will, indeed; I remember it well. It’s eleven years now since the earthquake; and she was weaned—I shall never forget it—of all the days of the year, on that very day. For I had put wormwood on my nipple, sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall. My lord and you were then in Mantua. Yes, I still have a good memory. But as I said, when she tasted the wormwood on the nipple of my breast and found it bitter, the pretty little fool, to see her get irritable and quarrel with the breast! “Shake,” said the dove-house—there was no need, I think, to tell me to get moving. And since that time it has been eleven years; for then she could stand alone; no, by the cross, she could have run and waddled all about. For even the day before she cut her forehead, and then my husband—God be with his soul, he was a merry man—picked up the child: “Yes,” said he, “do you fall on your face? You’ll fall backward when you have more sense; won’t you, Jule?” And by my holy dame, the pretty little thing stopped crying and said “Ay.” To see now how a joke comes true! I swear, if I should live a thousand years, I should never forget it. “Won’t you, Jule?” said he; and the pretty little fool stopped and said “Ay.”
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LADY CAPULET. Enough of this; I pray thee hold thy peace.
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LADY CAPULET. Enough of this; please be quiet.
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NURSE. 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’.
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NURSE. Yes, madam, yet I can’t help laughing to think that she stopped crying and said “Ay.” And yet I swear she had a bump on her forehead as big as a young rooster’s testicle; a dangerous knock, and she cried bitterly. “Yes,” said my husband, “do you fall on your face? You’ll fall backward when you come of age; won’t you, Jule?” She stopped and said “Ay.”
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JULIET. And stint thou too, I pray thee, Nurse, say I.
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JULIET. And you stop too, I pray you, Nurse—say I.
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NURSE. Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace Thou wast the prettiest babe that e’er I nurs’d: And I might live to see thee married once, I have my wish.
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NURSE. Peace, I’ve finished. God mark you for his grace—you were the prettiest baby I ever nursed. If I might live to see you married once, I would have my wish.
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LADY CAPULET. Marry, that marry is the very theme I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet, How stands your disposition to be married?
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LADY CAPULET. Indeed, that “marry” is the very subject I came to talk about. Tell me, daughter Juliet, how do you feel about being married?
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JULIET. It is an honour that I dream not of.
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JULIET. It is an honour that I do not even dream of.
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NURSE. An honour! Were not I thine only nurse, I would say thou hadst suck’d wisdom from thy teat.
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NURSE. An honour! If I weren’t your only nurse, I would say you had sucked wisdom from the breast.
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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.
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LADY CAPULET. Well, think of marriage now: younger than you, here in Verona, ladies of good standing are already mothers. By my count I was your mother at about the age you are now a girl. So, then, in short: the valiant Paris seeks you for his love.
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NURSE. A man, young lady! Lady, such a man As all the world—why he’s a man of wax.
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NURSE. A man, young lady! Lady, such a man as all the world—why, he’s a man of wax (a perfect model of a man).
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LADY CAPULET. Verona’s summer hath not such a flower.
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LADY CAPULET. Verona’s summer has no such flower.
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NURSE. Nay, he’s a flower, in faith a very flower.
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NURSE. Yes, he’s a flower, in truth a perfect flower.
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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 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.
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LADY CAPULET. What do you say—can you love the gentleman? Tonight you shall see him at our feast. Read over the volume of young Paris’s face and find delight written there with beauty’s pen. Examine every matched feature and see how each one gives pleasure to the others. And what is hidden in this fair volume, find written in the margin of his eyes. This precious book of love, this unbound lover, to make him complete only lacks a cover. The fish lives in the sea; and it is great pride for the fair outside to hide the fair inside. That book shares the glory in many eyes which locks the golden story inside golden clasps. So you shall share all that he possesses by having him, making yourself no less.
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NURSE. No less, nay bigger. Women grow by men.
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NURSE. No less—no, bigger. Women grow bigger by men.
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LADY CAPULET. Speak briefly, can you like of Paris’ love?
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LADY CAPULET. Speak briefly—can you like Paris’s love?
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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.
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JULIET. I’ll look so as to like, if looking can move liking. But I will not shoot my eye any deeper than your consent gives strength to make it fly.
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[Enter a Servant.]
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[Enter a Servant.]
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SERVANT. Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you called, my young lady asked for, the Nurse cursed in the pantry, and everything in extremity. I must hence to wait, I beseech you follow straight.
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SERVANT. Madam, the guests have arrived, supper is served, you are called for, my young lady is asked for, the Nurse is being cursed in the pantry, and everything is in a state of emergency. I must go and wait at table; I beg you to follow at once.
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LADY CAPULET. We follow thee.
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LADY CAPULET. We will follow you.
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[Exit Servant.]
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[Exit Servant.]
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LADY CAPULET. Juliet, the County stays.
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LADY CAPULET. Juliet, the Count is waiting.
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NURSE. Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days.
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NURSE. Go, girl—seek happy nights to match happy days.
Endearment · Colloquial
Ladybird – An affectionate, playful nickname for a girl or young woman, similar to “sweetheart” or “little bird.”
Archaic · Sorrow
Teen – Grief, sorrow, or trouble. The Nurse uses it when admitting she has only four teeth left.
Calendar · Festival
Lammas-tide – 1 August, an old harvest festival (from “loaf-mass”). Juliet’s fourteenth birthday falls on Lammas Eve (31 July).
Folk practice · Weaning
Wormwood – A bitter herb applied to the nipple to discourage a child from nursing and thus wean it.