Purfued my humour, not pursuing him ; MON. Many a morning hath he there been feen Black and portentous muft this humour prove, BEN. My noble uncle, do you know the cause? Is to himself, I will not fay, how true, Ere he can spread his fweet leaves to the air, Or dedicate his beauty to the fun. Could we but learn from whence his forrows grow, We would as willingly give cure, as know. Enter Romeo. BEN. See, where he comes. So please you, ftep afide, I'll know his grievance, or be much deny'd. MON. I would, thou wert fo happy by thy stay, To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let's away. [Exeunt. BEN. Good-morrow, coufin. ROM. Is the day so young? BEN. But new ftruck nine. Roм. Ah me, fad hours feem long! -Was that my father that went hence fo faft? BEN. It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours? ROM. Not having that, which, having, makes them short, BEN. In love? ROM. Out BEN. Of love? ROM. Out of her favour, where I am in love. BEN. Alas, that love, fo gentle in his view, Rom. Alas, that love, whose view is muffled ftill, Here's much to do with hate, but more with love. [Striking his breast, Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate! Oh, any thing of nothing first create ! O heavy lightness! serious vanity! Mif-shapen chaos of well-feeming forms! Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, fick health? Still-waking fleep, that is not what it is! This love feel I, that feel no love in this. Doft thou not laugh? BEN. No, coz, I rather weep, ROм. Good heart, at what? BEN. At thy good heart's oppreffion. ROM. Why, fuch is love's tranfgreffion.Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breaft; Which thou wilt propagate, to have them pref With more of thine; this love that thou hast fhewn, Being purg'd, a fire fparkling in lover's eyes; BEN. Soft, I'll go along. And if you leave me fo, you do me wrong. BEN. Tell me in sadness who she is you love? BEN. Groan? why no; but fadly tell me, who. In fadness, coufin, I do love a woman. [Going. BEN. I aim'd fo near, when I fuppos'd you lov'd. With Cupid's arrow; the hath Dian's wit: And, in ftrong proof of chastity well arm'd, From love's weak childish bow, fhe lives unharm’d. O, she is rich in beauty; only poor, That when she dies, with beauty dies her store. BEN. Then he hath sworn, that she will still live chaste ? Rom. She hath, and in that sparing makes huge wafte For beauty, ftarv'd with her severity, Cuts beauty off from all pofterity. She is too fair, too wife, too wifely fair, She hath forfworn to love, and in that vow BEN. Be rul'd by me, forget to think of her. ROM. 'Tis the way To call her's exquifite in question more ; Where I may read, who pafs'd that paffing fair? BEN. I'll pay that doctrine, or elfe die in debt. [Exeunt. SCENE III, Enter Capulet, Paris, and Servant. CAP. And Montague is bound as well as I, In penalty alike, and 'tis not hard I think, She hath not feen the change of fourteen years; C c Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride. PAR. Younger than fhe are happy mothers made. But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart, Such as I love; and you, among the store, And like her most, whose merit moft fhall be: [Exeunt Capulet and Paris, SERV. Find them out, whofe names are written here ? -It is written, that the fhoemaker fhould meddle with his yard, and the tailor with his laft, the fisher with his pencil, and the painter with his nets. But I am fent to find |