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 III. 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!

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