« AnteriorContinuar »
Enter Montague and Lady Montague.
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 With purple fountains issuing from your veins, On pain of torture, from those bloody hands Throw your mistemper'd* weapons to the ground, And hear the sentence of your moved prince.Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word, By thee, old Capulet and Montague, Have thrice disturb’d the quiet of our streets; And made Verona's ancient citizens Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments, To wield old partizans, in hands as old, Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate : If ever you disturb our streets again, Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace. For this time, all the rest depart away : You, Capulet, shall go along with me; And, Montague, come you this afternoon, To know our further pleasure in this case, To old Free-town, our common judgment-place. Once more, on pain of death, all men depart. [Exeunt Prince, and Attendants ; Capulet, Lady
Capulet, Tybalt, Citizens, and Servants. 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;
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 Aed 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 The shady curtains from Aurora's bed, Away from light steals home my heavy son, And private in his chamber pens himself ; Shuts up his windows, locks fair day-light out, And makes himself an artificial night: Black and portentous must this humour prove, Unless good counsel may the cause remove.
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-
Enter Romeo, at a distance.
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. Rom.
Is the day so young? Ben. But new struck nine. Rom.
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
Ben. Alas, that love, so gentle in his view,
Rom. Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will ! Where shall we dine ?-0 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 :Why then, o brawling love! O loving hate ! O any thing, of nothing first create ! O heavy lightness ! serious vanity !.
Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms !
No, coz, I rather weep.
At thy good heart's oppression.
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;
Ben. Tell me in sadness*, who she is you love.
Groan? why, no; But sadly tell me, who.
Rom. Bid a sick man in sadness make his will:-
Ben. I aim'd so near, when I suppos’d you lov’d.
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 siege of loving terms,
* In seriousness.
Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes,
chaste ? Rom. She hath, and in that sparing makes huge
Ben. Be rul’d by me, forget to think of her.
Ben. By giving liberty unto thine eyes;
Rom. 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 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. Ben. I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt.
'Tis the way
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.
* i. e. What end does it answer ?