Ben. In love?

Rom. Out

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: Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate!

O anything, of nothing first created!

O heavy lightness! serious vanity!
Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms!
This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
Dost thou not laugh?

Ben.

No, coz, I rather weep.

Rom. Good heart, at what?

Ben.

At thy good heart's oppression.

Tell me in sadness, who is that you love?

Rom. In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.

Ben. I aimed so near, when I supposed you

loved.

Rom. A right good mark-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 armed,
From love's weak childish bow she lives unharmed.
Ben. Be ruled 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.

'T is the way

To call hers, exquisite, in question more:
Show me a mistress that is passing fair,
What doth her beauty serve, but as a note
Where I may read who passed that passing fair?
Farewell thou canst not teach me to forget.
Ben. I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt.
[Exeunt.

Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Peter.

Cap. But Montague is bound as well as I,
In penalty alike; and 't is not hard, I think,
For men so old as we to keep the peace.

Par. Of honourable reckoning are you both;
And pity 't is, you lived at odds so long.
But now, my lord, what say you to my suit?

Cap. But saying o'er what I have said before:
My child is yet a stranger in the world;
She hath not seen the change of fourteen years:
Let two more summers wither in their pride
Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride.

Par. Younger than she are happy mothers made. Cap. And too soon marred are those so early made.

The earth hath swallowed all my hopes but she:
But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,
My will to her consent is but a part;
An she agree, within her scope of choice
Lies my consent and fair according voice.
This night I hold an old-accustomed feast,
Whereto I have invited many a guest,

Such as I love; and you among the store,
One more, most welcome, makes my number more.
Come, go with me.-Go, sirrah, trudge about
Through fair Verona; find those persons out
Whose names are written there, [giving a paper,]
and to them say,

My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.

[Exeunt CAPULET and PARIS.

Pet. 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 sent to find those persons whose names are here writ, and can never find what names the writing person 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 lessened by another's anguish ;

Take thou some new infection to thy eye,

And the rank poison of the old will die.

Rom. Your plantain-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 prison, kept without my food,

Whipped and tormented and-Good-den, good

fellow.

Pet. God gi' good-den.-I pray, sir, can you read? Rom. Ay, mine own fortune in my misery. Pet. Perhaps you have learned it without book: But, I pray, can you read anything you see?

Rom. Ay, if I know the letters, and the language. Pet. Ye say honestly; rest you merry.

Rom. Stay, fellow; I can read. [Reads.] "Signior Martino and his wife and daughters; County Anselme and his beauteous sisters; 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
Rosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio and his cousin
Tybalt; Lucio and the lively Helena."

A fair assembly: whither should they come ?
Pet. Up.

Rom. Whither?

Pet. To supper; to our house.

Rom. Whose house?

Pet. My master's.

Rom. Indeed, I should have asked you that before. Pet. Now I'll tell you without asking: my master 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 same ancient feast of Capulet's
Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lov'st,
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 swan a crow.
Rom. When the devout religion of mine eye

Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to

fires;

And these, who, often drowned, could never die,
Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars!
One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun
Ne'er saw her match, since first the world begun.
Ben. Tut! you saw her fair, none else being by,
Herself poised with herself in either eye;
But in that crystal scales let there be weighed
Your lady's love against some other maid

That I will show you shining at this feast,

And she shall scant show well that now shows

best.

Rom. I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, But to rejoice in splendour of mine own.

[Exeunt.

SCENE 2.-CAPULET'S Garden.

Enter Lady CAPULET and Nurse.

La. Cap. Nurse, where's my daughter? Call her forth to me.

Nurse. I bade her come.-What, lamb! what,

ladybird!

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

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

awhile,

We must talk in secret.-Nurse, come back again;
I have remembered me, thou's hear our counsel.
Thou know'st, my daughter's of a pretty age.
Nurse. Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour.
How long is it now to Lammas-tide?

La. Cap.

A fortnight and odd days.

Nurse. Even or odd, of all days in the year, Come Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen. Susan and she-God rest all Christian souls!

Were of an age: Well, Susan is with God;
She was too good for me: But, as I said,

On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen;
That shall she, marry; I remember it well.

'T is since the earthquake now eleven years;

And she was weaned,

And since that time it is eleven years;

For then she could stand alone, nay, by the

rood,

She could have run and waddled all about;

For even the day before, she broke her brow;