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La. Cap. A crutch, a crutch!-Why call you for a sword?
Cap. My sword, I say!-Old Montague is come, And flourishes his blade in spite of me.
Enter MONTAGUE and Lady MONTAGUE. Mon. Thou villain Capulet!-Hold me not; let me go.
La. Mon. Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe.
Enter Prince, with his train.
Prin. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace,
That quench the fire of your pernicious rage
CAPULET, TYBALT, Citizens, and Servants.
Right glad I am he was not at this fray.
Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd 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,
Being one too many by my weary self,
Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen,
Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause? Mon. I neither know it, nor can learn 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 trueBut 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 sun.
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
I'll know his grievance, or be much denied.
Ben. Good morrow, cousin.
Is the day so young?
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?
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, 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:
O heavy lightness! serious vanity!
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health!
Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.
Soft, I will go along: And if you leave me so, you do me wrong. 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 is that you love. Rom. What! shall I groan, and tell thee? Ben. Groan! why, no;
But sadly tell me, who.
Rom. Bid a sick man in sadness make his will; A 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 mark-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;
From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd.
That when she dies with beauty dies her 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,
She is too fair, too wise; wisely too fair,
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
To call her's, exquisite, in question more.
Ben. I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt.
SCENE II.-A Street.
Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Servant.
Cap. But Montague is bound as well as I,
Par. Of honourable reckoning are you both;
Cap. But saying o'er what I have said before;
Par. Younger than she are happy mothers made. Cap. And too soon marr'd are those so early made. Earth hath swallowed all my hopes but she, She is the hopeful lady of my earth: But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart, My will to her consent is but a part; An 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 more. At my poor house look to behold this night Earth-treading stars, that make dark heaven 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 see,
And like her most, whose merit most shall be: Which, on more view of many, mine being one, May stand in number, though in reckoning 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, [Giving a paper. My house and welcome on their pleasure stay. [Exeunt CAPULET and PARIS. Serv. Find them out, whose names are written here? It is written, that the shoemaker should meddle with his yard, and the tailor with his last, the fisher with his pencil, and the painter with his nets; but I am sent to find those persons, 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 burning,
Take thou some new infection to thy eye,
Shut up in prison, kept without my food,
Serv. God gi' good den.-I pray, sir, can you read?
Rom. Ay, mine own fortune in my misery.
Serv. 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. Serv. Ye say honestly. Rest you merry. Rom. Stay, fellow; I can read.
'Signior Martino, and his wife, and daughters; County Anselme, and his beauteous sisters; the lady widow of Vitruvio; Signior Placentio, and his lovely nieces; Mercutio, and his brother Valentine; mine uncle Capulet, his wife, and daughters; my fair niece Rosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio, aud his cousin Tybalt; Lucio, and the lively Helena." A fair assembly; whither should they come! Serv. Up.
Rom. Whither? to supper?
Serv. To our house.
Rom. Indeed, I should have asked you that before. Serv. Now, I'll tell you without asking. My master is the great rich Capulet; and if you be not of the house of Montagues, I pray, come and crush a cup of wine. Rest you merry. [Exit.
Ben. At this same ancient feast of Capulet's
Rom. When the devout religion of mine eye
Ben. Tut! you saw her fair, none else being by, Herself pois'd with herself in either eye; But in those crystal scales, let there be weigh'd Your lady's love against some other maid, That I will show you shining at this feast, And she shall scant show well, that now shows best.
Rom. I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, But to rejoice in splendour of mine own. [Exeunt.
La. Cap. A fortnight, and odd days. Nurse. Even or odd, of all days in the year, Come Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen. Susan and she,-God rest all Christian souls!Were of an age.-Well, Susan is with God; She was too good for me. But, as I said, On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen; That shall she, marry: I remember it well. 'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years; And she was wean'd,-I never shall forget it,Of all the days of the year, upon that day; For I had then laid wormwood to my dug, Sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall: My lord and you were then at Mantua.
Nay, I do bear a brain :-but, as I said,
And since that time it is eleven years;
For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood, She could have run and waddled all about, For even the day before she broke her brow: And then my husband-God be with his soul! 'A was a merry man,-took up the child: "Yea," quoth he, "dost thou fall upon thy face? Thou wilt fall backward, when thou hast more wit;
Nurse. Yes, madam. Yet I cannot choose but laugh,
To think it should leave crying, and say-"Ay:"
And yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow
Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nurs'd: