So far from founding and difcovery: As is the bud bit with an envious worm, Could we but learn from whence his forrows grow, 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 fo happy by thy ftay To hear true fhrift. Come, Madam, let's away. [Exe. Ben. Good-morrow, coufin, Rom. Is the day fo young? Ben. But new ftruck nine. Rom. Ah me, fad hours feem long! Ben. It was: what fadnefs lengthens Romeo's hours? Rom. Not having. That, which, having, makes them short. Ben. In love? Ben. Of love? Rom. Out of her favour, where I am in love? ‹ Ben. Alas, that love, fo gentle in his view, 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 ill! Where fhall we dine ?- Q me! here? What fray was Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all. Here's much to do with hate, but more with love: Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate! Oh, any thing of nothing firft create ! O heavy lightnefs! ferious vanity! Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, fick health This love feel I, 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 oppression. Rom. Why, fuch is love's tranfgreffion.Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breaft; Which thou wilt propagate, to have them prest 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 fea nourish'd with lovers' tears; What is it elfe? a madness most discreet, A choaking gall, and a preferving sweet: Farewel, my cousin. [Going. love? Ben. Soft, I'll go along. And if you leave me fo, you do me wrong. Rom. Tut, I have loft myself, I am not here; This is not Romeo, he's fome other where. Ben. Tell me in sadness, who she is you Rom. What, fhall I groan and tell thee? Ben. Groan? why, no; but fadly tell me, who. Rom. Bid a fick man in fadnefs make his will?O word, ill urg'd to one that is fo ill! In fadness, 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 sooneft hit. From love's weak childish bow, fhe lives unharm`d. That That when he dies, with her dies Beauty's Store. Bru. Then fhe hath fworn, that he will live chafte? Rom. She hath, and in that Sparing makes huge: wafte. For beauty, ftarv'd with her feverity, Ben. Be rul'd by me, forget to think of her. Rom. 'Tis the way To call hers (exquifite) in queftion more; Cap. SCENE III. Enter Capulet, Paris, and Servant. A [Exeunt. ND Montague is bound as well as I, to my Suit ? My My child is yet a ftranger in the world, She hath not feen the Change of fourteen years; Par. Younger than fhe are happy mothers made. Cap. And too foon marr'd are those fo early made: The earth hath fwallow'd all my hopes but fhe. She is the hopeful lady of my earth: But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart, My will to her confent is but a part; If the agree, within her scope of choice Lies my confent, and fair according voice: This night, I hold an old-accuftom'd Feaft, Whereto I have invited many a gueft, Such as I love; and you, among the ftore, One more, most welcome, makes my number more. At my poor houfe, look to behold this night *Earth-treading ftars that make dark Even light. Such comfort as do lufty young men feel, When well-apparel'd April on the heel Of limping Winter treads, even fuch delight. Among fresh female-buds fhall you this night. Inherit at my house; hear all, all fee, And like her moft, whofe merit moft fhall be: Which on more view of many, minc, being one, May ftand in number, tho' in reck'ning none. Come, go with me. Go, firrah, trudge about, Through fair Verona; find thofe perfons out, Whofe names are written there; and to them fay, My house and welcome on their pleasure stay. [Exeunt 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 Fisher with his Pencil, and the Painter with his Earth-treading ftars that make dark heaven's light.] This thould be reformed thus, Earth-treading far's that make dark Even light. Warb. the Nets. But I am sent to find those Perfons, whofe names are here writ; and can never find what names the writing perfon hath here writ. I muft to the Learned. In good time, Enter Benvolio and Romeo. Ben. Tut, man! one fire burns out another's burning, One pain is lessen'd by another's Anguish : Rom. Your plantan leaf is excellent for That. 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 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 fee? Rom. Ay, if I know the letters and the language. [He reads the letter.] SIGNIOR Martino, and his wife and daughter: Count Anfelm and his beauteous fifters; 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 Rosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio, and his cousin Tybalt; Lucio, and the lively Helena. A fair affembly; whither fhould they come? Ser. |