Ben. It was: what sadness lengthens Romeo's hours? Rom. Not having that, which having makes them thort. Ben. In love?

Rom. Out

Ben. Of love »?

kem. Out of her favout where I am in love. Hen. Alas, that love fo gentle in his view, vé Should be fo tyrannous and rough in proof!

Rom. Alas, that love, whofe view is muffled ftill, Should without eyes fee path ways to his will! Where fhall we dine? O me!

here?

Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.

What fray was

922

Here's much to do with hate, but more with love:1
Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate!ʼn
Oh any thing of nothing first create !

O heavy lightness ! ferious vanity!
Mif-hapen chaos of well feeming forms!

Feather of lead, bright fmoke, cold fire, fick health!
Still-waking fleep, that is not what it is!

This love feel 1, that feel no love in this.

Doft thou not laugh?

Ben. No, coz, I rather weep.

Rom. Good heart, at what?

Ben. At thy good heart's oppreffion.5

13

Rom. Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breaft
Which thou wilt propagate to have them preft
With more of thine; this love that thou hast shewn
Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.
Love is a fmoke rais'd with the fume of fighs,
Being purg'd, a fire fparkling in lovers eyes,"
Being vex'd, a fea nourish'd with lovers tears;
What is it elfe? a madness most difcreet,
A choaking gall, and a preferving fweet:
Farewel, my cousin.

[Going

Ber. Soft, I'll go along.
And if you leave me fo, you do me wrong.
Rom. But I have loft my felf, I am not here,
This is not Romeo, he's fome other where.
Ben. Tell me in fadnofs, who the is you love ?

Rom

Rom, What, shall I groan and tell thee ?`

སུ

Ben Groan? why no, but fadly tell me, who.. Rom. Bid a fick man in fadness make his willO word, ill urg g'd to one that is fo ill

In fadnefs, coufin, I do love a woman.

Ben, I aim'd fo near, when I fuppos'd you lov'd. Rom. A right good marks-man, and fhe's fair I love. Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is foon ft hit. Rom. But in that hit you mifs,fhe'll not be hit With Cupid's arrow, he hath Dian's wit: And in frong proof of chastity well arm'd, From love's weak childish bow the lives unharm'd. She will not tay the fiege of loving terms, Nor hide th' encounter of affaili g eyes, Nor ope her lap to faint-feducing gold. Q fhe is rich in beauty; only poor,

That when the dies, with beauty dies her store.

Ben. Then the bath fworn, that she will still live chafte? Rom. She hath, and in that (paring makes huge wafte. For beauty ftarv'd with her feverity,

Cuts beauty off from all pofterity.

She is too fair, too wife: wifely too fair,
To merit bliss by making me despair;
She hath forfworn to love, and in that vow
Do I live dead, that live to tell it now.

Ben. Be rul'd by me, forget to think of her.
Rom. O teach me how I Thould forget to think.
Ben. By giving liberty unto thine eyes:
Examine other beauties.

Rom. 'Tis the way

To call hers (exquifite) in queftion more:
Thofe happy masks that kifs fair ladies brows.
Being black, put us in mind they hide the fair
He that is ftrucken blind cannot forget
The precious treafure of his eye-fight loft.
Shew me a miftrefs that is paffing fair 3
What doth her beauty ferve but as a note,
Where I may read who past that paffing fair
Farewel, thou canst not teach me to forget..
Ban. I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt. [Exe ̧

SCENE

୮

Euter Capulet, Paris, and fervant, theft ala

Cap. And Mountague is bound as well as I, nouŤ In penalty alike ; and 'tis not hard to as man slod W For men fo old as we to keep the peace. lisinos y M Par. Of honourable reck'ning are you both, And pity 'tis you liv'd at odds fo long: But now, my lord, what fay you to my fuit Cap. But laying o'er what I have faid before My child is yet a ftranger in the world, She hath not feen the change of fourteen years presk Let two more fummers wither in their pride, bat Dire Ere we may think her ripe to be a brides dad mi Par. Younger than fhe are happy_motkers made.> Cap. And too foon marr'd are thofe fo early made: The earth hath fwallowed all my hopes but the. But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart, is My will to her confent is but a part;

If the agree, within her fcope of choice
Lies my confent, and fair according voice) od
This night, I hold an old accustom'd feaft. Der er ba
Whereto have invited many a guest,

Such as I love, and you among the store,

One more (moft welcome!) makes my number more,
At my poor houfe, look to behold this night,
Earth-treading ftars that make dark heaven light,
Such comfort as do lufty young men feel,
When well-apparell'd April on the heel
Of limping winter treads, even fuch delight
Among fresh female-buds shall you this night

but the,

She is the hopeful lady of my earth

this line not in the first edition.ne

Jaherit

Inherit at my houfe; hear all, all fee,

And like her most, whose merit moft shall be:
Which on more view of many, mine being one,
May ftand in number, though in reck'ning none.
Come go with me. Go, firrah, trudge about,
Through fair Verona, find those perfons out
Whofe names are written there, and to them fay,
My houfe and welcome on their pleasure stay.

[Exeunt Cap. and Par Ser. Find them out whofe names are written here? It is written, that the fhaoe-maker should meddle with his yard, and the tailor with his laft, and the fisher with his pencil, and the painter with his nets. But I am fent to find thofe perfons whofe names are here writ, and can never find what names the writing perfon hath here writ. I must to the learned. good time.

Enter Benvolio and Romeo.

in

Ben. Tut man, one fire burns out another's burning,
One pain is leffen'd by another's anguish;

Turn giddy and be help'd by backward turning,

One defperate grief cure with another's languish:

Take thou fome new infection to the eye,

And the rank poison of the old will die.

Rom. Your plantan leaf is excellent for that.
Ben. For what, I pray thee?

Rom. For your broken fhin.

Ben. Why, Romeo, art thou mad?

Rom. Not mad, but bound more than a mad man is:

Shut up in prifon, kept without my food,

Whipt and tormented; and-Good-e'en, good fellow.
[To the Servant
Ser. God gi' good-e'en: I pray, Sir, can you read?
Rom. Ay, mine own fortune in my mifery.

Ser. Perhaps you have learn'd it without book: but,

I pray,

Can you read any thing you fee?

Rom. Ay, if I know the letters and the language..
Ser. Ye fay honestly, reft you merry.
Rom. Stay fellow, I can read,

[He

[He reads the letter.]

Siemand his beauteous fifters; the lady widow
Ignior Martino, and his wife and daughters: Count
of Vitruvio; Signior Placentino, and bis lovely newes, Mer-
cutio and his brother Valentine; mine uncle Capulet, his
wife and daughters; my fair neice Rofaline Livio, fignior
Valento, and his confin Tibal, Lucio, and the lively Helena
A fair
affembly; whither fhould they come ?
Ser. Up.

Rom. Whither? to fupper?
Ser. To our house,

Rom. Whole houfe:

Ser. My mafter's,

Rom, Indeed I fhould have askt you that before. Ser. Now I'll tell you without asking. My mafter is the great rich Capulet, and if you be not of the houfe of Mountagues, I pray come and crufh a cup of wine. Reft you merry. LExit

Ben. At this fame ancient feaft of Capulets,

Sups the fair Rofaline, whom thou fo loy'ft;
With all th' admire beauties of Verona.
Go thither, and with unate inted eye,

Compare her face with fome that I fhall fhow,
And I will make thee think thy fwan a cr w.
Rom. When the devout religion of mine eye
Maintains fuch falfehoods, then turn tears to fires ;
And thefe who often drown'd could never die,
Transparent hereticks, be burnt for liars.
One fairer than my love! th' all-feeing fun
Ne'er faw her match, fince firft the world begun.
Ben. Tut, tut, you faw her fair, none elfe being by,
Her felf p is'd with her felf in either eye:
But in thofe chryftal feales, let there be weigh'd'
Your lady's 'ove against fome other maid

Thit I will thew you, fhining at this feaft,

And the will fhew feant well, that now fhews beft,
Rom. I'll go along, no fuch fight to be fhewn,
But to rejoice in fplendor of mine own.

[Exeunt