Black and portentous must this humour prove, Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause? Mon. I neither know it, nor can learn it of him. Ben. Have you importun'd him by any means? Mon. Both by myself, and many other friends. Ben. So please you, sir, Mercutio and myself Are most near to him; We will attempt upon his privacy, And, could we learn from whence his sorrows grow, We would as willingly give cure as knowledge. Mon. "Twill bind us to you: good Benvolio, go. Ben. We'll know his grievance, or be much denied. [Exeunt. SCENE II. Before CAPULET's House. Enter CAPULET and PARIS. Cap. And Montague is bound, as well as I, Par. Younger than she are happy mothers made. If she agree, within her scope of choice 2 Lies my consent; so woo her, gentle Paris. [Exeunt. SCENE III. A Wood, near Verona. Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO. Mer. See, where he steals-Told I you not, Benvolio, That we should find this melancholy Cupid Lock'd in some gloomy covert, under key Threaded, like these cross boughs, in sorrow's knot? Ben. Good morrow, cousin. Ben. But new struck nine. Rom. Ah me! sad hours seem long. Mer. Pr'ythee, what sadness lengthens Romeo's hours? Rom. Not having that, which, having, makes them short. Ben. In love, me seems! Alas! that lave, so gentle to the view, Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! Rom. Where shall we dine?-O me!-Cousin Benvolio, What was the fray this morning with the Capulets? Yet, tell me not, for I have heard it all. Here's much to do with hate, but more with love : C Love, heavy lightness! serious vanity! Dost thou not laugh, my friend?-Oh, Juliet! Juliet! Ben. No, coz, I rather weep. Rom. Good heart, at what ?— Ben. At thy good heart's oppression. Mer. Tell me, in sadness, who she is you love? Mer. I aim'd so near, when I suppos'd you lov'd. Rom. He, that is strucken blind, cannot forget Mer. I warrant thee, if thou'lt but stay to hear. Where all the beauties of Verona meet. Mer. At Capulet's, my friend; Go there, and with an unattainted eye, Compare her face with some that I shall show, Rom. When the devout religion of mine eye Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires : And burn the heretics. All-seeing Phoebus Ne'er saw her match, since first his course began. Mer. Tut, tut, you saw her fair, none else being by; Herself pois'd with herself; but let be weigh'd Rom. I will along, Mercutio. Mer. 'Tis well. Hear all, all see, try all; and like her most, Rom. My mind is chang'd I will not go to-night. Mer. Why, may one ask? Rom. I dream'd a dream last night. Mer. Ha! ha! a dream? O, then I see Queen Mab has been with you. On doctors' fingers, who straight dream on fees; Sometimes she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, Rom. Peace, peace, Thou talk'st of nothing. Mer. True, I talk of dreams; Which are the children of an idle brain, And more unconstant than the wind. Ben. This wind you talk of, blows us from ourselves, And we shall come too late. Rom. I fear, too early; for my mind misgives Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars, From this night's revels-lead, gallant friends, [Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO. Let come what may, once more I will behold My Juliet's eyes, drink deeper of affliction: I'll watch the time; and, mask'd from observation, Make known my sufferings, but conceal my name : Tho' hate and discord 'twixt our sires increase, Let in our hearts dwell love and endless peace. [Exit. |