-Enter MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE. Mon. Thou villain Capulet,-Hold me not, let me go. Lu. Mon. Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe. Enter Prince, with Attendants. Prin. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,Will they not hear?-what ho! you men, you beasts, That quench the fire of your pernicious rage Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets; [Exeunt Prince, and Attendants; CAPULET, LA. CAP. TYBALT, Citizens, and Servants. Mon. Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach? Speak, nephew, were you by, when it began? Ben. Here were the servants of your adver sary, And yours, close fighting ere I did approach: 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 to-day? Right glad I am, he was not at this fray. sun Peer'd forth the golden window of the east, A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad; Where, underneath the grove of sycamore, That westward rooteth from the city's side,So early walking did I see your son: Towards 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 busied when they are most alone, Pursu'd my humour, not pursuing his, And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me. But all so soon as the all-cheering sun VOL. VIII. I Enter ROMEO, at a distance. Ben. See, where he comes: So please you, step aside; I'll know his grievance, or be much denied. Mon. I would, thou wert so happy by thy stay, To hear true shrift.-Come, madam, let's away. [Exeunt MONTAGUE and Lady. Ben. Good morrow, cousin. Rom. Is the day so young? Ben. But new struck 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 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 still, Should, without eyes, see pathways 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 heavy lightness, serious vanity! Still waking sleep, that is not what it is!- Dost thou not laugh? Ben. No, coz, I rather weep. Rom. Good heart, at what? At thy good heart's oppression. Rom. Why, such is love's transgression.Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast; Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest With more of thine: this love, that thou hast shown, Doth add more grief to too much of mine own. [Going. But sadly tell me who. Rom. Bid a sick man in sadness make his Ah, word ill urg'd to one that is so ill! In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman. Ben. I aim'd so near, when I suppos'd you lov'd. Rom. A right good marksman!-And she's fair I love. Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. With Cupid's arrow, she hath Dian's wit; She will not stay the siege of loving terms, That, when she dies, with beauty dies her store. Ben. Then she hath sworn, that she will still live chaste? Rom. She bath, 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; wisely too fair, She hath forsworn to love; and, in that vow, 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. 'Tis the way Rom. To call hers, exquisite, in question more: These 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 eyesight lost: Show me a mistress that is passing fair, What doth her beauty serve, but as a note Where I may read, who pass'd that passing fair? Farewell; thou canst not teach me to forget. Ben. I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt. [Exeunt. SCENE II. A Street. Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Servant. Cap. And Montague is bound as well as I, In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think, For men so old as we to keep the peace. Par. Of honourable reckoning are you both; And pity 'tis, you liv'd at odds so long. But now, my lord, what say you to my suit? Cap. By 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 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, Such as I love; and you, among the store, more. |