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So far from founding and discovery :
As is the bud bit with an envious worm,
Ere he can spread his sweet wings 10 the air,
Or dedicate his beauty to the Sun.
Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow,
We would as willingly give Cure, as know.

Enter Romeo.
Ben. See, where he comes: so please you, step aside;
I'll know his grievance, or be much deny d.

Mon. I would, thou wert so happy by thy stay
To hear true fhrift. Come, Madam, let's away. (Exe.

Ben. Good.morrow, cousin,
Rom. Is the day so young?
Ben. But new ftruck nine.

Rom. Ah me, sad hours seem long!
Was that

my

father that went hence so fast ?
Ben. It was: what sadness lengthens Romeo's hours?
Rom. Not having That, which, having, makes

them bort.
Ben. In love ?
Rom. Out
Ben. Of love?
Rom. Out of her favour, where I am in love ?

Ben. Alas, that love, so gentle in his view,
Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!

Rom. Alas, ihat love, whose view is muffled still,
Should without eyes fee path-ways to his ill!
Where shall we dine ? -0. me!-- What fray was-

here?
Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.
Here's much to do wirb hate, but more with love :
Why then, O brawling love ! O loving hate !
Oh, any thing of nothing first create !
O heavy lighữness ! serious vanity!
Mil-Shapen chaos of well-feeming forms !
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, fick health
Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is !

14

do me wrong.

This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
Dost thou not laugh ?

Ben. No, coz, I rather weep.
Roni. Good heart, at what?
Ben. At thy good heart's oppression.

kom. Why, such is love's transgression. Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast;

Which thou wilt propagate, to have them prest i With more of thine ; this love, that thou haft shewn,

Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.
Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of fighs,
Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes ;
Being vext, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears ;
What is it else ? a madness inost discreet,
A choaking gall, and a preserving sweet :
Farewel, my cousin.

[Going Ben. Soft, I'll go along. And if you leave me so, you

Rom. Tut, I have lost myself, I am not here ;
This is not Romeo, he's some other where.

Ben. Tell me in sadness, who she is you love?
Rom. What, shall I groan and tell thee?
Ben. Groan ? why, no; but sadly tell me, who.

Rom. Bid a fick man in sadness make his will?
O word, ill urg'd to one that is so ill !
In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.

Ben. I aim'd lo near, when I suppos'd you lov'd.
Rom. A right good marks-man; Land she's fair,

I love.
Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is sooneft hit.

Rom. But, in that hit, you miss ;- she'll not be hit
With Cupid's arrow; she hath Dian's wit :
And, in strong proof of chastity well armd,
From love's weak childilh bow, the lives unharm d.
She will not stay the siege of loving terins,
Nor 'bide th' encounter of aflailing eyes,
Nor ope her lap to saint-fcducing gold.
0, he is rich in beauty ; only poor,

That when she dies, with her dies Beauty's Store. Bru. Then she hath sworn, that she will live

chaste ?
Rom. She hath, and in that Sparing makes huge

waste.
For beauty, ftarv'd with her severity,
Cuts beauty off from all posterity.
She is too fair, 100 wise ; wisely too fair,
To merit bliss by making me despair ;
She hath forsworn 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 should forget to think.

Ben. By giving liberty unto thine eyes;
Examine other Beauties.

Rom. 'Tis the way
To call hers (exquisite) in question more ;
Those happy maiks, that kiss fair ladies' brows,
Being black, put us in mind they hide the fair ;
He that is strucken blind, cannot forget
The precious treasure of his eye-light loft.
Shew me a mistress, that is passing fair;
What doth her beauty serve, but as a note,
Where I may reád, who pass'd that pasling fair ?
Farewel, thou canst not teach me to forget.
Ben. I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt.

[Excunt. SCENE III.

Enter Capulet, Paris, and Servant.
Cap: ANDA Montague is bound as well as I,
For men so old as we to keep the peace.

Par. Of honourable reck’ning are you Both,
And, pity 'tis, you liv'd at odds so long:
But now, my lord, what say you to my Suit ?
Cap. But saying o'er what I have said before :

My

My clild is yet a stranger in the world,
She hath not seen the Change of fourteen years ;
Let two more summers wither in their pride,
Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride.

Par. Younger than she are happy mothers made.

Cap. And too soon marr'd are those so early made: The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she.

She is the hopefullady of my earth:
| But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,

My will to her confent is but a part;
If she agree, within her scope of choice
Lies my consent, and fair according voice:
This night, I hold an old-accustom'd Feast,
Whereto I have invited many a guest,
Such as I love; and you, among the store,
One more, most welcome, makes

my

number inore. At my poor house, look to behold this night

Earth-treading stars that make dark Even light. Such comfort as do lusty young men feel, When well-apparel'd April on the heel Of limping Winter treads, even such delight Among fresh female-buds shall you this night Inherit at my house ; hear all, all fee, And like her most, whose merit. moft fhall be: Which on more view of many, mine, being one, May stand in number, tho' in reck’ning none. Come, go with me. Go, firrah, trudge about, Through fair Verona ; find those persons out, Whose names are written there; and to them say, My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.

(Exeuni Capulet and Paris. Ser. Find them out, whose names are written here? -It is written, that the Shoe-maker should meddle with his Yard, and the Tailor with his Last, the Filher with his Pencil, and the Painter with his

* Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven's light.] This should be reforined thus, Earth-treading llars that make dark Even light.

the

Warb.

Nets. But I am sent to find those Perfons, whose names are here writ; and can never find what names the writing person hath here writ. I must to the Learned. — in good time,

Enter Benvolio and Romeo.
Ben. Tut, man! one fire burns out another's burn-

ing, One pain is lefsend by another's Anguilh: Turn giddy, and be help'd by backward turning;

One desperate grief cure with another's Languish:
Take thou some new infedion to the eye,
And the rank poison of the oil will die.

Rom. Your plantan leaf is excellent for That.
Ben. For what, I pray thee?
Rom. For your broken shin.
Ben. Why, Romeo, art thou mad?

Rom. Not mad, but bound more than a mad-man is :
Shut up in prison, 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 misery.
Ser. Perhaps you have learn'd it without book:

but, I pray,
Can you read any thing you see?

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

He reads the letter.
Si
IGNIOR Martino, and his wife and daughter :

Count Anselm and his beauteous hifters; the lady widow of Vitruvio ; Signior Placentio, and his lovely neices; Mercutio and his brother Valentine ; mine uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; my fair niece Rofaline; Livia; Sig nior Valentio, and his cousin Tybalt; Lucio, and the lively Helena. A fair assembly; whither should they come ?

Ser.

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