4 In fadnefs, cousin, I do love a woman. Ben. I aim'd so near, when I fuppos'd you lov'd. I love. Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. hit With Cupid's arrow, she hath Dian's wit; chaste? Rom. She hath, and in that sparing makes huge wafte; For beauty, starv'd with her severity, She is too fair, too wife; wifely too fair, She hath forsworn to love; and, in that vow, Ben. Be rul'd by me, forget to think of her. Examine other beauties. Rom. 'Tis the way To call hers, exquisite, in question more: What doth her beauty ferve, but as a note Where I may read, who pafs'd that passing fair? Farewell; thou canft not teach me to forget. Ben. I'll pay that doctrine, or elfe die in debt. SCENE II. A Street. [Exeunt. 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 fuit ? Cap. But saying o'er what I have faid before: My child is yet a stranger in the world, She hath not seen the change of fourteen years; Let two more fummers 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 so early made. The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but the, When well-apparell'd April on the heel Of limping winter treads, even such delight and to them say, 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 fent to find those perfons, 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 lessen'd by another's anguish; Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning; One defperate grief cures with another's lan guish : Take thou fome new infection to thy eye, And the rank poison of the old will die. Rom. Your plaintain leaf is excellent for that. Ben. For what, I pray thee? Rom. For your broken shin. Ben. Why, Romeo, art thou mad? Rom. Not mad, but bound more than a madman is: Shut up in prifon, kept without my food, Whipp'd, and tormented, and Good-e'en, good fellow. Serv. God gi' good e'en:-I pray, fir, 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 fee? Rom. Ay, if I know the letters, and the language. Serv. Ye fay honestly; Rest you merry! Rom. Stay, fellow? I can read. [Reads. Signior Martino, and his wife, and daughters; County Anfelme, and his beauteous fisters; 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 Rofaline; Livia; Signor Valentio, and bis cousin, Tybalt; Lucio, and the lively Helena. A fair affembly; [Gives back the note.] Whither fhould they come? Serv. Up. Rom. Whither? Serv. To fupper; to our house. Rom. Whose house ? Serv. My master's. Rom. Indeed, I should have ask'd you that be fore. Serv. Now I'll tell you without asking: My mafter 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 fame ancient feast of Capulet's Compare her face with some that I shall show, And thefe,-who, often drown'd, could never die, SCENE III. A Room in Capulet's House. La. Cap. Nurse, where's my daughter? call her forth to me, Nurse. Now, by my maiden-head, -at twelve year old, I bade her come. - What, lamb! what, lady-bird! La. Cap. This is the matter:--Nurse, give leave awhile, We must talk in secret.-Nurse, come back again; |