Will they not hear what ho! you men, you beasts, That quench the fire of your pernicious rage ذو 100 [Exeunt Prince, CAPULET, &e. Mon. Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach ?— Speak, nephew, were you by, when it began? Ben. Here were the servants of your adversary, 111 He swung about his head, and cut the winds, Who, nothing hurt withal, hiss'd him in scorn: While we were interchanging thrusts and blows, Came more and more, and fought on part and part, 'Till the prince came, who parted either part. La. Mon. O, where is Romeo!-saw you him today? Right glad I am, he was not at this fray. Ben. Madam, an hour before the worhip'd sun I, measuring his affections by my own,→ And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me. 120 Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen, With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew, Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs: But all so soon as the all-cheering sun 130 Should in the furthest east begin to draw 140 Black 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: But he, his own affections' counsellor, Is to himself-I will not say, how true→→ 150 Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow, We would as willingly give cure, as know. Enter ROMEO, at a Distance. Ben. See, where he comes: So please you step aside; I'll know his grievance, or be much deny'd. Ben. Good morrow, cousin, Ben. But new struck nine. Rom. Ay me! sad hours seem long. 160 [Exeunt. Was that my father that went hence so fast? Ben. It was hours? Rom. Not having that, which, having, makes them 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, that love, whose view is muffled still, Should, without eyes, see path-ways to his will! Where shall we dine !-O me !-What fray was here? 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! O any thing of nothing first created! O heavy lightness! serious vanity! Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms! 180 Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health! Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is !--- This love feel I, that feel no love in this. Dost thou not laugh? Ben. No, coz, I rather weep. Rom. Good heart at what? Ben. At thy good heart's opppression. Rom. Why, such is love's transgression. Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast; Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest 190 With more of thine; this love, that thou hast shown, Doth add more grief to too much of mine own. A choaking gall, and a preserving sweet. Ben. Soft, I will go along ; 200 [Going. An if you leave me so, you do me wrong. But sadly tell me, who. Rom. Bid a sick 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. 210 Ben. I aim'd so near, when I suppos'd you lov'd. Rom. A right good marks-man!-And she's fair I love. Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. Rom. Well, 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 arm'd, 221 Nor |