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Enter MONTAGUE and Lady MONTAGUE.
Mon. Thou villain, Capulet, Hold me not, let
La. 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
Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments,
Mon. Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach? Speak, nephew, were you by, when it began? Ben. Here were the servants of your adversary, And yours, close fighting ere I did approach: I drew to part them; in the instant came The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepar'd; Which, as he breath'd defiance to my ears, He swung about his head, and cut the winds, Who, nothing hurt withal, hiss'd him in scorn: While we were interchanging thrusts and blows, 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
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, 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.
Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen, With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew, Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs: But all so soon as the all-cheering sun
Should in the furthest east begin to draw
Black and portentous must this humour prove,
Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause? Mon. I neither know it, nor can learn of him. Ben. Have you impórtun'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 true
Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow,
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.
Was that 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
Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.
Here's much to do with hate, but more with
Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate!
O heavy lightness! serious vanity!
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health!
This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
No, coz, I rather weep.
Rom. Good heart, at what?
At thy good heart's oppression.
Rom. Why, such is love's transgression.-
Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.
Ben. 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. Rom. What, shall I groan, and tell thee? Ben.
But sadly tell me, who.
Groan? why no;
Rom. Bid a sick man in sadness make his :
Ah, word ill urg'd to one that is so ill!
you lov'd. And she's
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;
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,
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 her's, 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.