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But he, his own affections' counsellor,
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 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.
Ben. But new struck nine.
Is the day so young?
Ah me! sad hours seem long.
my father that went hence so fast?
Ben. It was:-What sadness lengthens Romeo's
Rom. Not having that, which having, makes them
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:-
O heavy lightness! serious vanity!
Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms!
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health! Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!—
This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
Dost thou not laugh?
No, coz, I rather weep.
Rom. Good heart, at what?
At thy good heart's oppression.
Rom. Why, such is love's transgression.-
With more of thine: this love, that thou hast shown,
Soft, I will go along;
An 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 she is you love.
But sadly tell me, who.
Groan? why, no;
Rom. Bid a sick man in sadness make his will: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 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.
That, when she dies, with beauty dies her store.
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; wisely too fair,
To merit bliss by making me despair:
Ben. Be rul'd by me, forget to think of her.
7 In seriousness.
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:
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?
My child is yet a stranger in the world,
9 i, e. What end does it answer?
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,
She is the hopeful lady of my earth :
But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,
Such as I love; and you, among the store,
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 med
2 To inherit, in the language of Shakspeare is to possess. 3 Estimation.