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Servant:
Perhaps you have learned it without book.
But I pray, can you read anything you see?
Romeo:
Ay, If I know the letters and the language.
Servant:
Ye say honestly, rest you merry!
Romeo:
Stay, fellow; I can read.
(He reads the letter.)
Signior Martino and his wife and daughters;
County Anselmo and his beauteous sisters;
The lady widow of Utruvio;
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.
A fair assembly. (Gives back the paper) Whither should they come?
Servant:
Up.
Romeo:
Whither to supper?
Servant:
To our house.
Romeo:
Whose house?
Servant:
My master’s.
Romeo:
Indeed I should have ask’d you that before.
Servant:
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.)
Benvolio:
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.
Romeo:
When the devout religion of mine eye
Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fire;
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.
Benvolio:
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 shows best.
Romeo:
I’ll go along, no such sight to be shown,
But to rejoice in splendour of my own.
(Exeunt.)
Scene Three. Room in Capulet’s House.
Enter Lady Capulet and Nurse.
Lady Capulet:
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.
Juliet:
How now, who calls?
Nurse:
Your mother.