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In fadnefs, cousin, I do love a woman.

Ben. I aim'd so near, when I fuppos'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,
From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd.
She will not stay the fiege of loving terms,
Nor bide the encounter of affailing eyes,
Nor ope her lap to faint-seducing gold:
O, she is rich in beauty; only poor,
That, when she dies, with beauty dies her store.
Ben. Then the hath fworn, that she will still live

chaste?

Rom. She hath, and in that sparing makes huge

wafte;

For beauty, starv'd with her severity,
Cuts beauty off from all pofterity.

She is too fair, too wife; wifely too fair,
To merit bliss by making me defpair:

She hath forsworn to love; and, in that vow,
Do I live dead, that live to tell it now.

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.

Rom.

'Tis the way

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 ftrucken blind, cannot forget
The precious treasure of his eyesight loft:
Show me a mistress that is paffing fair,

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,
She is the hopeful lady of my earth:
But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,
My will to her confent is but a part;
An the agree, within her scope of choice
Lies my confent and fair according voice.
This night I hold an old accustom'd ieaft,
Whereto I have invited many a guest,
Such as I love; and you, among the ftore,
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-apparell'd April on the heel

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Of limping winter treads, even such delight
Among fresh female buds shall you this night
Inherit at my house; hear all, all fee,
And like her moft, whose merit most shall be :
Such, amongst view of many, mine, being one,
May stand in number, though in reckoning none.
Come, go with me;-Go, firrah, trudge about
Through fair Verona; find those persons out,
Whose names are written there, [gives a paper.]

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
Sups the fair Rofaline, whom thou so lov'ft;
With all the admired beauties of Verona :
Go thither; and, with unattainted eye,

Compare her face with some that I shall show,
And I will make thee think thy fwan a crow.
Rom. When the devout religion of mine eye
Maintains fuch falsehood, then turn tears to fires!

And thefe,-who, often drown'd, could never die,
Transparent hereticks, be burnt for liars!
One fairer than my love! the all-feeing fun
Ne'er faw her match, since first the world begun.
Ben. Tut! you faw 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 feaft,
And she shall scant show well, that now shows beft.
Rom. I'll go along, no such fight to be shown,
But to rejoice in splendour of mine own. [Exeunt,

SCENE III.

A Room in Capulet's House.
Enter Lady CAPULET and Nurse.

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!
God forbid!-where's this girl?-what, Juliet!

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La. Cap. This is the matter:--Nurse, give leave

awhile,

We must talk in secret.-Nurse, come back again;

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