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A troubled mind drew me to walk abroad;
Where underneath the grove of fycamour,
That westward rooteth from this city side,
So early walking did I see your son.
Tow'rds him I made, but he was 'ware of me,
And stole into the covert of the wood.
I measuring his affections by my own,
That most are bufied when they're most alone,
Pursued my humour, not pursuing him ;
And gladly shunnid, who gladly Aed from me.
Moun. Many a morning hath he there been seen
With tears augmenting the fresh morning. dew;
But all so soon as the all-cheering sun
Should, in the farthest East, begin to draw
The shady curtains from Aurora's bed ;
Away from light steals home my heavy fon,
And private in his chamber pens himself;
Shuts up his windows, locks fair day-light out,
And makes himself an artificial night.
Black and portentous must this humour prove,
Unless good counsel may the cause remove.
Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause?
Moun. I neither know it, nor can learn it of him.
Ben. Have you importun'd him by any means?
Moun. Both by my self and many other friends;
But he, his own affection's counsellor,
Is to himself, I will not say how true,
But to himself so secret and so close,
So far from sounding and discovery ;
As is the bud bit with an envious worm,
Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air,
Or dedicate his beauty to the 2 'sun.
Could we but learn from whence his forrows grow,
We would as willingly give cure, as know.
Ben. See where he comes : so please you step aside,
I his ...eld edir. Thirl. emend. 2 fame . . . old edit. Theob, omend'.
I'll know his grievance, or be much deny'd.
Moun. I would thou wert so happy by thy stay,
To hear true Ihrift. Come, Madam, let's away. (Exeunt.
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 faft?
Ben. It was: what sadness 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, so gentle in his view,
Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!
Rom. Alas, that love, whose view is muffled ftill,
Should without eyes see path-ways to his 'ill!"
Where shall we dine?- 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 hare!
Oh any thing of nothing first create !
O heavy lightness ! serious vanity!
Mil-Thapen chaos of well-feeming forms !
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, fick health!
Still-waking-Neep, that is not what it is!
This love feel 1, 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 oppression.
Rom. Griefs of mine own lye heavy in my breast;
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 sighs,
Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers eyes,
Being vext, a sea nourish'd with lovers tears ;
What is it else? a madness most discreet,
A choaking gall, and a preserving sweet :
Farewel, my cozen.
[Going Ben. Soft, I'll go along. An if you leave me so, you do me wrong.
Rom. But I have lost my felf, 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 fo ill-
In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.
Ben. I aim'd fo 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. 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 arm'd,
From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd.
She will not stay the siege of loving terms,
Nor bide th' encounter of affailing eyes,
Nor ope her lap to faint-seducing gold.
O, she is rich in beauty ; only poor,
That when the dies, with + 'her dies beauty's store."
Ben. Then she hath sworn, that she will still live chaste?
Rom. She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste. For beauty starv'd with her severity, Cuts beauty off from all posterity. She is too fair, too wise ; sitoo wisely fair,' To merit bliss by making me despair ; She hath forsworn to love, and in chat vow Do I live dead, that live to tell it now.
Ben. 4 beauty dies her store ... old, edit. Theob. emend. 5 wisely too fair,
Ben. Be ruld 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 masks 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-fight loft.
Shew me a mistress that is passing fair ;
What doth her beauty serve but as a note,
Where I may read who past that passing fair ?
Farewel, thou canst not teach me to forget.
Ben. I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt. [Exeunt,
Cap. And Mountague is bound as well as I,
In penalty alike ; and 'tis not hard
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 child 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 the are happy mothers made.
Cap. And too soon marr'd are those fo early made :
The earth hath swallowed all my hopes but her.
But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,
My will to her consent is but a part;
If she agree, within her scope of choice
Lyes 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, ''o’th") welcome makes my number more.
At my poor house, look to behold this night
Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light.
Such comfort as do lufty young men feel,
When well-apparelld April on the heel
Of Jimping 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 shall be:
Which on more view of many, mine being one
May stand in number, though in reck’ning none.
Come go with me. Go, sirrah, 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 ftay.
[Exeunt Capulet and Paris. Ser. Find them out whose names are written here? It is written, that the shoemaker should meddle with his yard, and the taylor with his last, the fisher with his pencil, and the painter with his nets. But I am fent to find those persons whose names are here writ, and can never find what names the writing perfon hath here writ. I must to the learned.-In good time,
Enter Benvolio and Romeo, Ben. Tut, man! one fire burns out another's burning,
One pain is lefsen'd by another's anguish;
Turn giddy and be help'd by backward turning,
One desperate grief cure with another's languish:
Take thou some 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. 7 most