Scene II.

EnterBenvolioBenvolio.Part, fools!Put up your swords; you know not what you do.[Beats down their swords.EnterTybaltTybalt.What,art thou drawnamong these heartless hinds?Turn thee,Benvolio,look upon thy death.Benvolio.I do but keep the peace; put up thy sword,Or manage it to part these men with me.Tybalt. What, drawn and talk of peace! I hate the word,As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee;Have at thee,coward![They fight.Enter several of both houses who join the fray; then enterCitizens,with clubs70First Citizen.Clubs,bills, and partisans! strike! beat them down!Down withthe Capulets!down with the Montagues!EnterCapuletin his gown,andLady CapuletCapulet. What noise is this? Give me mylong sword,ho!Lady Capulet.A crutch, a crutch!why call you for a sword?Capulet. My sword, I say! Old Montague is come,And flourishes his bladein spiteof me.EnterMontagueandLady MontagueMontague. Thou villain Capulet!—Hold me not, let me go.Lady Montague. Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe.EnterPrince,with his trainPrince. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace,Profaners of thisneighbour-stainedsteel,—80Will they not hear? What, ho! you men, you beasts,That quench the fire of your pernicious rageWith purple fountains issuing from your veins,On pain of torture, from those bloody handsThrow yourmistemper'dweapons to the ground,And hear the sentence of yourmovedprince.—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'sancientcitizens90Cast by theirgrave beseemingornaments,To wield old partisans, 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 oldFreetown,our common judgment-place.—100Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.[Exeunt all but Montague, Lady Montague, and Benvolio.Montague.Whosetthis ancient quarrel new abroach?Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?Benvolio.Here were the servants of youradversaryAnd yours close fighting ere I did approach.I drew to part them; in the instant cameThe 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.110While wewere interchanging thrusts and blows,Came more and more, and fought on part and part,Till the prince came, who parted either part.Lady Montague.O, where is Romeo?saw you him to-day?Right glad I am he was not at this fray.Benvolio.Madam, an hour beforethe worshipp'd sunPeer'dforththe golden window of the east,A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad;Where, underneath the grove ofsycamoreThat westwardrootethfrom the city's side,120So early walking did I see your son.Towards him I made, but he waswareof meAnd stole into the covert of the wood;I, measuring hisaffectionsby my own,Which thenmost sought where most might not be found,Being one too many by my weary self,Pursued my humour, not pursuing his,And gladly shunn'dwhogladly fled from me.Montague.Many a morning hath he there been seen,With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew,130Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs;Butall so soonas the all-cheering sunShould in the farthest east begin to drawThe shady curtains from Aurora's bed,Away from light steals home myheavyson,And private in his chamber pens himself,Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out,And makes himself an artificial night.Black and portentous must this humour prove,139Unless good counsel may the cause remove.Benvolio.My noble uncle, do you know the cause?Montague.I neither know it nor can learn of him.Benvolio.Have youimportun'dhim by any means?Montague.Both by myself and many other friends;But he, his own affections' counsellor,Is to himself—I will not say how true—But to himself so secret and so close,So far from sounding and discovery,As is the bud bitwithan envious wormEre he can spread his sweet leaves to the air150Or dedicate his beauty to thesun.Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow,We would as willingly give cure as know.EnterRomeoBenvolio.See, where he comes! So please you, step aside;I'll know his grievance or be much denied.Montague.I would thou wert so happy by thy stayTo heartrue shrift.—Come, madam, let's away.[Exeunt Montague and Lady.Benvolio.Good morrow, cousin.Romeo.Is the day so young?Benvolio.Butnewstruck nine.Romeo.Ay me! sad hours seem long.Was that my father that went hence so fast?160Benvolio.It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours?Romeo.Not having that which, having, makes them short.Benvolio.In love?Romeo.Out—Benvolio.Of love?Romeo.Out of her favour where I am in love.Benvolio.Alas, that love, so gentlein his view,Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!Romeo.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?171Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.Here's muchto do with hate, but more with love.Why, then,O brawling love!O loving hate!O any thing, of nothing first created!O heavy lightness! serious vanity!Misshapen 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?180Benvolio.No, coz, I rather weep.Romeo.Good heart, at what?Benvolio.At thy good heart's oppression.Romeo.Why, such is love's transgression.Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast,Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prestWith more of thine; this love that thou hast shownDoth add more grief to too much of mine own.Love is a smokerais'dwith the fume of sighs;Beingpurg'd,a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears.190What is it else? a madness most discreet,A choking gall,and a preserving sweet.Farewell, my coz.Benvolio.Soft! I will go along;An if you leave me so, you do me wrong.Romeo.Tut, I have lost myself, I am not here;This is not Romeo, he'ssome other where.Benvolio.Tell me insadnesswho is that you love.Romeo.What, shall I groan and tell thee?Benvolio.Groan! why, no,But sadly tell me who.Romeo.Bid a sick man in sadness make his will;200Ah, word ill urg'd to one that is so ill!In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.Benvolio.I aim'd so near when I suppos'd you lov'd.Romeo.A right goodmark-man!And she's fair I love.Benvolio.A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit.Romeo.Well, in that hit you miss. She'll not be hitWith Cupid's arrow; she hathDian's wit,And, in strongproofof chastity well arm'd,From Love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd.She will not staythe siegeof loving terms,210Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes,Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold.O, she is rich in beauty! only poorThat, when she dies,with beauty dies her store.Benvolio.Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?Romeo.She hath, andin that sparing makes huge waste;For beautystarv'dwith her severityCuts beauty off from all posterity.She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair,To merit bliss by making me despair;220She hath forsworn to love, and in that vowDo I live dead that live to tell it now.Benvolio.Be rul'd by me, forget to think of her.Romeo.O, teach me how I should forget to think.Benvolio.By giving liberty unto thine eyes;Examine other beauties.Romeo.'Tis the wayTo call hers, exquisite,in question more.These happy masksthat kiss fair ladies' brows,Being black, put us in mind they hide the fair.He that isstruckenblind cannot forget230The precious treasure of his eyesight lost.Show me a mistress that ispassingfair,What doth her beauty serve but as a noteWhere I may read who pass'd that passing fair?Farewell; thou canst not teach me to forget.Benvolio.I'llpay that doctrineor else die in debt.Exeunt.

EnterBenvolio

Benvolio.Part, fools!Put up your swords; you know not what you do.[Beats down their swords.

Benvolio.Part, fools!

Put up your swords; you know not what you do.[Beats down their swords.

EnterTybalt

Tybalt.What,art thou drawnamong these heartless hinds?Turn thee,Benvolio,look upon thy death.

Tybalt.What,art thou drawnamong these heartless hinds?

Turn thee,Benvolio,look upon thy death.

Benvolio.I do but keep the peace; put up thy sword,Or manage it to part these men with me.

Benvolio.I do but keep the peace; put up thy sword,

Or manage it to part these men with me.

Tybalt. What, drawn and talk of peace! I hate the word,As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee;Have at thee,coward![They fight.

Tybalt. What, drawn and talk of peace! I hate the word,

As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee;

Have at thee,coward![They fight.

Enter several of both houses who join the fray; then enterCitizens,with clubs

70First Citizen.Clubs,bills, and partisans! strike! beat them down!Down withthe Capulets!down with the Montagues!

First Citizen.Clubs,bills, and partisans! strike! beat them down!

Down withthe Capulets!down with the Montagues!

EnterCapuletin his gown,andLady Capulet

Capulet. What noise is this? Give me mylong sword,ho!

Lady Capulet.A crutch, a crutch!why call you for a sword?

Capulet. My sword, I say! Old Montague is come,And flourishes his bladein spiteof me.

Capulet. My sword, I say! Old Montague is come,

And flourishes his bladein spiteof me.

EnterMontagueandLady Montague

Montague. Thou villain Capulet!—Hold me not, let me go.

Lady Montague. Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe.

EnterPrince,with his train

Prince. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace,Profaners of thisneighbour-stainedsteel,—80Will they not hear? What, ho! you men, you beasts,That quench the fire of your pernicious rageWith purple fountains issuing from your veins,On pain of torture, from those bloody handsThrow yourmistemper'dweapons to the ground,And hear the sentence of yourmovedprince.—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'sancientcitizens90Cast by theirgrave beseemingornaments,To wield old partisans, 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 oldFreetown,our common judgment-place.—100Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.[Exeunt all but Montague, Lady Montague, and Benvolio.

Prince. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace,

Profaners of thisneighbour-stainedsteel,—

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 yourmistemper'dweapons to the ground,

And hear the sentence of yourmovedprince.—

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'sancientcitizens

Cast by theirgrave beseemingornaments,

To wield old partisans, 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 oldFreetown,our common judgment-place.—

Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.

[Exeunt all but Montague, Lady Montague, and Benvolio.

Montague.Whosetthis ancient quarrel new abroach?Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?

Montague.Whosetthis ancient quarrel new abroach?

Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?

Benvolio.Here were the servants of youradversaryAnd yours close fighting ere I did approach.I drew to part them; in the instant cameThe 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.110While wewere interchanging thrusts and blows,Came more and more, and fought on part and part,Till the prince came, who parted either part.

Benvolio.Here were the servants of youradversary

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 wewere interchanging thrusts and blows,

Came more and more, and fought on part and part,

Till the prince came, who parted either part.

Lady Montague.O, where is Romeo?saw you him to-day?Right glad I am he was not at this fray.

Lady Montague.O, where is Romeo?saw you him to-day?

Right glad I am he was not at this fray.

Benvolio.Madam, an hour beforethe worshipp'd sunPeer'dforththe golden window of the east,A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad;Where, underneath the grove ofsycamoreThat westwardrootethfrom the city's side,120So early walking did I see your son.Towards him I made, but he waswareof meAnd stole into the covert of the wood;I, measuring hisaffectionsby my own,Which thenmost sought where most might not be found,Being one too many by my weary self,Pursued my humour, not pursuing his,And gladly shunn'dwhogladly fled from me.

Benvolio.Madam, an hour beforethe worshipp'd sun

Peer'dforththe golden window of the east,

A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad;

Where, underneath the grove ofsycamore

That westwardrootethfrom the city's side,

So early walking did I see your son.

Towards him I made, but he waswareof me

And stole into the covert of the wood;

I, measuring hisaffectionsby my own,

Which thenmost sought where most might not be found,

Being one too many by my weary self,

Pursued my humour, not pursuing his,

And gladly shunn'dwhogladly fled from me.

Montague.Many a morning hath he there been seen,With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew,130Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs;Butall so soonas the all-cheering sunShould in the farthest east begin to drawThe shady curtains from Aurora's bed,Away from light steals home myheavyson,And private in his chamber pens himself,Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out,

Montague.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;

Butall so soonas the all-cheering sun

Should in the farthest east begin to draw

The shady curtains from Aurora's bed,

Away from light steals home myheavyson,

And private in his chamber pens himself,

Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out,

And makes himself an artificial night.Black and portentous must this humour prove,139Unless good counsel may the cause remove.

And makes himself an artificial night.

Black and portentous must this humour prove,

Unless good counsel may the cause remove.

Benvolio.My noble uncle, do you know the cause?

Montague.I neither know it nor can learn of him.

Benvolio.Have youimportun'dhim by any means?

Montague.Both by myself and many other friends;But he, his own affections' counsellor,Is to himself—I will not say how true—But to himself so secret and so close,So far from sounding and discovery,As is the bud bitwithan envious wormEre he can spread his sweet leaves to the air150Or dedicate his beauty to thesun.Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow,We would as willingly give cure as know.

Montague.Both by myself and many other friends;

But he, his own affections' counsellor,

Is to himself—I will not say how true—

But to himself so secret and so close,

So far from sounding and discovery,

As is the bud bitwithan envious worm

Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air

Or dedicate his beauty to thesun.

Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow,

We would as willingly give cure as know.

EnterRomeo

Benvolio.See, where he comes! So please you, step aside;I'll know his grievance or be much denied.

Benvolio.See, where he comes! So please you, step aside;

I'll know his grievance or be much denied.

Montague.I would thou wert so happy by thy stayTo heartrue shrift.—Come, madam, let's away.[Exeunt Montague and Lady.

Montague.I would thou wert so happy by thy stay

To heartrue shrift.—Come, madam, let's away.

[Exeunt Montague and Lady.

Benvolio.Good morrow, cousin.

Romeo.Is the day so young?

Benvolio.Butnewstruck nine.

Romeo.Ay me! sad hours seem long.Was that my father that went hence so fast?

Romeo.Ay me! sad hours seem long.

Was that my father that went hence so fast?

160Benvolio.It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours?

Benvolio.It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours?

Romeo.Not having that which, having, makes them short.

Benvolio.In love?

Romeo.Out—

Benvolio.Of love?

Romeo.Out of her favour where I am in love.

Benvolio.Alas, that love, so gentlein his view,Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!

Benvolio.Alas, that love, so gentlein his view,

Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!

Romeo.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?171Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.Here's muchto do with hate, but more with love.Why, then,O brawling love!O loving hate!O any thing, of nothing first created!O heavy lightness! serious vanity!Misshapen 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?

Romeo.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 muchto do with hate, but more with love.

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

O any thing, of nothing first created!

O heavy lightness! serious vanity!

Misshapen 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?

180Benvolio.No, coz, I rather weep.

Benvolio.No, coz, I rather weep.

Romeo.Good heart, at what?

Benvolio.At thy good heart's oppression.

Romeo.Why, such is love's transgression.Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast,Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prestWith more of thine; this love that thou hast shownDoth add more grief to too much of mine own.Love is a smokerais'dwith the fume of sighs;Beingpurg'd,a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears.190What is it else? a madness most discreet,A choking gall,and a preserving sweet.Farewell, my coz.

Romeo.Why, such is love's transgression.

Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast,

Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest

With more of thine; this love that thou hast shown

Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.

Love is a smokerais'dwith the fume of sighs;

Beingpurg'd,a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;

Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears.

What is it else? a madness most discreet,

A choking gall,and a preserving sweet.

Farewell, my coz.

Benvolio.Soft! I will go along;An if you leave me so, you do me wrong.

Benvolio.Soft! I will go along;

An if you leave me so, you do me wrong.

Romeo.Tut, I have lost myself, I am not here;This is not Romeo, he'ssome other where.

Romeo.Tut, I have lost myself, I am not here;

This is not Romeo, he'ssome other where.

Benvolio.Tell me insadnesswho is that you love.

Romeo.What, shall I groan and tell thee?

Benvolio.Groan! why, no,But sadly tell me who.

Benvolio.Groan! why, no,

But sadly tell me who.

Romeo.Bid a sick man in sadness make his will;200Ah, word ill urg'd to one that is so ill!In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.

Romeo.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.

Benvolio.I aim'd so near when I suppos'd you lov'd.

Romeo.A right goodmark-man!And she's fair I love.

Benvolio.A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit.

Romeo.Well, in that hit you miss. She'll not be hitWith Cupid's arrow; she hathDian's wit,And, in strongproofof chastity well arm'd,From Love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd.She will not staythe siegeof loving terms,210Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes,Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold.O, she is rich in beauty! only poorThat, when she dies,with beauty dies her store.

Romeo.Well, in that hit you miss. She'll not be hit

With Cupid's arrow; she hathDian's wit,

And, in strongproofof chastity well arm'd,

From Love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd.

She will not staythe siegeof loving terms,

Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes,

Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold.

O, she is rich in beauty! only poor

That, when she dies,with beauty dies her store.

Benvolio.Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?

Romeo.She hath, andin that sparing makes huge waste;For beautystarv'dwith her severityCuts beauty off from all posterity.She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair,To merit bliss by making me despair;220She hath forsworn to love, and in that vowDo I live dead that live to tell it now.

Romeo.She hath, andin that sparing makes huge waste;

For beautystarv'dwith her severity

Cuts beauty off from all posterity.

She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair,

To merit bliss by making me despair;

She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow

Do I live dead that live to tell it now.

Benvolio.Be rul'd by me, forget to think of her.

Romeo.O, teach me how I should forget to think.

Benvolio.By giving liberty unto thine eyes;Examine other beauties.

Benvolio.By giving liberty unto thine eyes;

Examine other beauties.

Romeo.'Tis the wayTo call hers, exquisite,in question more.These happy masksthat kiss fair ladies' brows,Being black, put us in mind they hide the fair.He that isstruckenblind cannot forget230The precious treasure of his eyesight lost.Show me a mistress that ispassingfair,What doth her beauty serve but as a noteWhere I may read who pass'd that passing fair?Farewell; thou canst not teach me to forget.

Romeo.'Tis the way

To call hers, exquisite,in question more.

These happy masksthat kiss fair ladies' brows,

Being black, put us in mind they hide the fair.

He that isstruckenblind cannot forget

The precious treasure of his eyesight lost.

Show me a mistress that ispassingfair,

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.

Benvolio.I'llpay that doctrineor else die in debt.Exeunt.

A Street

EnterCapulet,Paris,andServant

Capulet.But 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.Paris.Of honourablereckoningare you both,And pity 'tis you liv'd at odds so long.But now, my lord, what say you to my suit?Capulet.But saying o'er what I have said before.My child is yet a stranger in the world;She hath not seen the change offourteen years.10Let two more summers wither in their prideEre we may think her ripe to be a bride.Paris.Younger than she are happy mothers made.Capulet.And too soon marr'd are those so earlymade.The earth hath swallow'dall my hopes but she,She is the hopeful lady ofmy earth.But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,My willto her consent is but a part;An she agree, within her scope of choiceLies my consent and fair according voice.20This night I hold an old accustom'd 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.At my poor house look to behold this nightEarth-treading stars that makedark heavenlight.Such comfort as do lustyyoung menfeelWhen well-apparell'd April on the heelOf limping winter treads, even such delightAmong freshfemalebuds shall you this night30Inheritat my house. Hear all, all see,And like her most whose merit most shall be;Which on more viewof many, mine being oneMay stand in number, though in reckoning none.Come, go with me.—[To Servant, giving a paper]Go, sirrah, trudge aboutThrough fair Verona; find those persons outWhose names arewritten there, and to them say,My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.[Exeunt Capulet and Paris.

Capulet.But 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.

Capulet.But 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.

Paris.Of honourablereckoningare you both,And pity 'tis you liv'd at odds so long.But now, my lord, what say you to my suit?

Paris.Of honourablereckoningare you both,

And pity 'tis you liv'd at odds so long.

But now, my lord, what say you to my suit?

Capulet.But saying o'er what I have said before.My child is yet a stranger in the world;She hath not seen the change offourteen years.10Let two more summers wither in their prideEre we may think her ripe to be a bride.

Capulet.But saying o'er what I have said before.

My child is yet a stranger in the world;

She hath not seen the change offourteen years.

Let two more summers wither in their pride

Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride.

Paris.Younger than she are happy mothers made.

Capulet.And too soon marr'd are those so earlymade.The earth hath swallow'dall my hopes but she,She is the hopeful lady ofmy earth.But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,My willto her consent is but a part;An she agree, within her scope of choiceLies my consent and fair according voice.20This night I hold an old accustom'd 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.At my poor house look to behold this nightEarth-treading stars that makedark heavenlight.Such comfort as do lustyyoung menfeelWhen well-apparell'd April on the heelOf limping winter treads, even such delightAmong freshfemalebuds shall you this night30Inheritat my house. Hear all, all see,And like her most whose merit most shall be;Which on more viewof many, mine being oneMay stand in number, though in reckoning none.Come, go with me.—[To Servant, giving a paper]Go, sirrah, trudge aboutThrough fair Verona; find those persons outWhose names arewritten there, and to them say,My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.[Exeunt Capulet and Paris.

Capulet.And too soon marr'd are those so earlymade.

The earth hath swallow'dall my hopes but she,

She is the hopeful lady ofmy earth.

But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,

My willto 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 accustom'd 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.

At my poor house look to behold this night

Earth-treading stars that makedark heavenlight.

Such comfort as do lustyyoung menfeel

When well-apparell'd April on the heel

Of limping winter treads, even such delight

Among freshfemalebuds shall you this night

Inheritat my house. Hear all, all see,

And like her most whose merit most shall be;

Which on more viewof many, mine being one

May stand in number, though in reckoning none.

Come, go with me.—[To Servant, giving a paper]Go, sirrah, trudge about

Through fair Verona; find those persons out

Whose names arewritten there, and to them say,

My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.[Exeunt Capulet and Paris.

Servant.Find them out whose names are writtenhere! It is written that the shoemaker should meddlewith his yard and the tailor with his last, the40fisher with his pencil and the painter with his nets;but I am sent to find those persons whose names arehere writ, and can never find what names the writingperson hath here writ. I must to the learned.—Ingood time.EnterBenvolioandRomeo

EnterBenvolioandRomeo

Benvolio.Tut, man,one fireburns out another's burning,One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish;Turn giddy, and beholpby backward turning;One desperate griefcures withanother's languish.50Take thou some new infection to thy eye,And the rank poison of the old will die.Romeo.Your plantain-leafis excellent for that.Benvolio.For what, I pray thee?Romeo.For your broken shin.Benvolio.Why, Romeo, art thou mad?Romeo.Not mad, but boundmore than a madman is;Shut up in prison, kept without my food,Whipp'd and tormented and—Good-den, good fellow.

Benvolio.Tut, man,one fireburns out another's burning,

One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish;

Turn giddy, and beholpby backward turning;

One desperate griefcures withanother's languish.

Take thou some new infection to thy eye,

And the rank poison of the old will die.

Romeo.Your plantain-leafis excellent for that.

Benvolio.For what, I pray thee?

Romeo.For your broken shin.

Benvolio.Why, Romeo, art thou mad?

Romeo.Not mad, but boundmore than a madman is;Shut up in prison, kept without my food,Whipp'd and tormented and—Good-den, good fellow.

Romeo.Not mad, but boundmore than a madman is;

Shut up in prison, kept without my food,

Whipp'd and tormented and—Good-den, good fellow.

Servant.God gi' good-den.—I pray, sir, can youread?Romeo.Ay, mine own fortune in my misery.60Servant.Perhaps you have learned it without book;but, I pray, can you read any thing you see?Romeo.Ay, if I know the letters and the language.Servant.Ye say honestly;rest you merry!Romeo.Stay, fellow; I can read.[Reads]'Signior Martinoand his wife and daughters;County Anselme and his beauteous sisters; thelady widow of Vitruvio; Signior Placentio and hislovely nieces;Mercutioand his brother Valentine;mine uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; my fair70nieceRosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio and hiscousin Tybalt; Lucio and the lively Helena?'A fair assembly; whither should they come?Servant.Up.Romeo.Whither?Servant.To supper; to our house.Romeo.Whose house?Servant.My master's.Romeo.Indeed, I should have ask'd you that before.Servant.Now I'll tell you without asking. My80master is the great rich Capulet; and if you be notof the house of Montagues, I pray, come andcrusha cup of wine. Rest you merry![Exit.

Servant.God gi' good-den.—I pray, sir, can youread?

Romeo.Ay, mine own fortune in my misery.60

Servant.Perhaps you have learned it without book;but, I pray, can you read any thing you see?

Romeo.Ay, if I know the letters and the language.

Servant.Ye say honestly;rest you merry!

Romeo.Stay, fellow; I can read.

[Reads]'Signior Martinoand his wife and daughters;County Anselme and his beauteous sisters; thelady widow of Vitruvio; Signior Placentio and hislovely nieces;Mercutioand his brother Valentine;mine uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; my fair70nieceRosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio and hiscousin Tybalt; Lucio and the lively Helena?'A fair assembly; whither should they come?

Servant.Up.

Romeo.Whither?

Servant.To supper; to our house.

Romeo.Whose house?

Servant.My master's.

Romeo.Indeed, I should have ask'd you that before.

Servant.Now I'll tell you without asking. My80master is the great rich Capulet; and if you be notof the house of Montagues, I pray, come andcrusha cup of wine. Rest you merry![Exit.

Benvolio.At this same ancient feast of Capulet'sSups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lov'st,With all the admired beauties of Verona.Go thither, and withunattaintedeyeCompare her face with some that I shall show,And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.90Romeo.When the devout religion of mine eyeMaintains such falsehood then turn tears tofires;And these,who often drown'dcould never die,Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars!One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sunNe'er saw her match since first the world begun.Benvolio.Tut! you saw her fair, none else being by,Herself pois'd with herself in either eye;But inthat crystal scaleslet there be weigh'dYourlady's loveagainst some other maid100That I will show you shining at this feast,And she shallscantshow well that now shows best.Romeo.I'll go along, no such sight to be shown,But to rejoice in splendour of mine own.[Exeunt.

Benvolio.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 withunattaintedeye

Compare her face with some that I shall show,

And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.

90Romeo.When the devout religion of mine eyeMaintains such falsehood then turn tears tofires;And these,who often drown'dcould never die,Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars!One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sunNe'er saw her match since first the world begun.

Romeo.When the devout religion of mine eye

Maintains such falsehood then turn tears tofires;

And these,who often drown'dcould 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.

Benvolio.Tut! you saw her fair, none else being by,Herself pois'd with herself in either eye;But inthat crystal scaleslet there be weigh'dYourlady's loveagainst some other maid100That I will show you shining at this feast,And she shallscantshow well that now shows best.

Benvolio.Tut! you saw her fair, none else being by,

Herself pois'd with herself in either eye;

But inthat crystal scaleslet there be weigh'd

Yourlady's loveagainst some other maid

That I will show you shining at this feast,

And she shallscantshow well that now shows best.

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

Romeo.I'll go along, no such sight to be shown,

But to rejoice in splendour of mine own.[Exeunt.

A Room in Capulet's House

EnterLady CapuletandNurse

Lady Capulet.Nurse, where's my daughter? call her forth to me.Nurse.Now, by mymaidenheadat twelve year old,I bade her come.—What, lamb! what, lady-bird!—God forbid!—Where's this girl?—What, Juliet!EnterJulietJuliet.How now! who calls?Nurse.Your mother.Juliet.Madam, I am here.What is your will?Lady Capulet.This is the matter:—Nurse,give leave awhile,We must talk in secret.—Nurse, come back again;I have remember'd me, thou'shear our counsel.10Thou know'st my daughter's of a pretty age.Nurse.Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour.Lady Capulet.She's not fourteen.Nurse.I'lllayfourteen of my teeth,—And yet, to myteenbe it spoken, I have but four,—She is not fourteen. How long is it nowToLammas-tide?Lady Capulet.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,20She 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.'Tis sincethe earthquakenow eleven years;And she was wean'd,—I never shall forget it,—Of all the days of the year, upon that day,For I had then laidwormwoodto my dug,Sitting in the sununder the dove-house wall;My lord and you were then at Mantua,—Nay, I dobear a brain;—but, as I said,30When it did taste the wormwood on the nippleOf my dug, and felt it bitter,pretty fool,To see ittetchyand fall out with the dug!Shake, quoth the dove-house;'twas no need, I trow,To bid me trudge.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.—Godmarkthee to his grace!Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nurs'd;40An I might liveto see thee married once,I have my wish.Lady Capulet.Marry, that 'marry' is the very themeI came to talk of.—Tell me, daughter Juliet,How stands your disposition to be married?Juliet.It is an honour that I dream not of.Nurse.An honour! were not I thine only nurse,I would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat.Lady Capulet.Well, think of marriage now; younger than youHere in Verona, ladies of esteem,50Are made already mothers. By my count,I was your mothermuch upon these yearsThat you are now a maid. Thus then in brief:The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.Nurse.A man, young lady! lady, such a manAs all the world—why, he'sa man of wax.Lady Capulet.Verona's summer hath not such a flower.Nurse.Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower.Lady Capulet. What say you? can you love the gentleman?This night you shall behold him at our feast;60Read o'er the volumeof young Paris' face,And find delight writ there with beauty's pen.Examine everymarriedlineamentAnd see how one another lends content;And what obscur'd in this fair volume liesFind written in themargentof his eyes.This precious book of love, this unbound lover,To beautify him, only lacks acover;The fishlives in the sea, and 'tis much prideFor fair without the fair within to hide.70That book inmany'seyes doth share the glory,That in gold clasps locks in the golden story;So shall you share all that he doth possess,By having him making yourself no less.Speak briefly, can youlike ofParis' love?Juliet.I'll look to like, if looking liking move;But no more deep will Iendartmine eyeThan your consent gives strength to make it fly.Enter aServantServant.Madam, the guests are come, supperserved up, you called, my young lady asked for,80the nursecursedin the pantry, and every thing inextremity. I must hence to wait; I beseech you,follow straight.Lady Capulet.We follow thee.—[Exit Servant.]Juliet, thecountystays.Nurse.Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days.[Exeunt.

Lady Capulet.Nurse, where's my daughter? call her forth to me.

Nurse.Now, by mymaidenheadat twelve year old,I bade her come.—What, lamb! what, lady-bird!—God forbid!—Where's this girl?—What, Juliet!

Nurse.Now, by mymaidenheadat twelve year old,

I bade her come.—What, lamb! what, lady-bird!—

God forbid!—Where's this girl?—What, Juliet!

EnterJuliet

Juliet.How now! who calls?

Nurse.Your mother.

Juliet.Madam, I am here.What is your will?

Juliet.Madam, I am here.

What is your will?

Lady Capulet.This is the matter:—Nurse,give leave awhile,We must talk in secret.—Nurse, come back again;I have remember'd me, thou'shear our counsel.10Thou know'st my daughter's of a pretty age.

Lady Capulet.This is the matter:—Nurse,give leave awhile,

We must talk in secret.—Nurse, come back again;

I have remember'd me, thou'shear our counsel.

Thou know'st my daughter's of a pretty age.

Nurse.Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour.

Lady Capulet.She's not fourteen.

Nurse.I'lllayfourteen of my teeth,—And yet, to myteenbe it spoken, I have but four,—She is not fourteen. How long is it nowToLammas-tide?

Nurse.I'lllayfourteen of my teeth,—

And yet, to myteenbe it spoken, I have but four,—

She is not fourteen. How long is it now

ToLammas-tide?

Lady Capulet.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,20She 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.'Tis sincethe earthquakenow eleven years;And she was wean'd,—I never shall forget it,—Of all the days of the year, upon that day,For I had then laidwormwoodto my dug,Sitting in the sununder the dove-house wall;My lord and you were then at Mantua,—Nay, I dobear a brain;—but, as I said,30When it did taste the wormwood on the nippleOf my dug, and felt it bitter,pretty fool,To see ittetchyand fall out with the dug!Shake, quoth the dove-house;'twas no need, I trow,To bid me trudge.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.—Godmarkthee to his grace!Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nurs'd;40An I might liveto see thee married once,I have my wish.

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.

'Tis sincethe earthquakenow eleven years;

And she was wean'd,—I never shall forget it,—

Of all the days of the year, upon that day,

For I had then laidwormwoodto my dug,

Sitting in the sununder the dove-house wall;

My lord and you were then at Mantua,—

Nay, I dobear a brain;—but, as I said,

When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple

Of my dug, and felt it bitter,pretty fool,

To see ittetchyand fall out with the dug!

Shake, quoth the dove-house;'twas no need, I trow,

To bid me trudge.

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.—

Godmarkthee to his grace!

Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nurs'd;

An I might liveto see thee married once,

I have my wish.

Lady Capulet.Marry, that 'marry' is the very themeI came to talk of.—Tell me, daughter Juliet,How stands your disposition to be married?

Lady Capulet.Marry, that 'marry' is the very theme

I came to talk of.—Tell me, daughter Juliet,

How stands your disposition to be married?

Juliet.It is an honour that I dream not of.

Nurse.An honour! were not I thine only nurse,I would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat.

Nurse.An honour! were not I thine only nurse,

I would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat.

Lady Capulet.Well, think of marriage now; younger than youHere in Verona, ladies of esteem,50Are made already mothers. By my count,I was your mothermuch upon these yearsThat you are now a maid. Thus then in brief:The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.

Lady Capulet.Well, think of marriage now; younger than you

Here in Verona, ladies of esteem,

Are made already mothers. By my count,

I was your mothermuch upon these years

That you are now a maid. Thus then in brief:

The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.

Nurse.A man, young lady! lady, such a manAs all the world—why, he'sa man of wax.

Nurse.A man, young lady! lady, such a man

As all the world—why, he'sa man of wax.

Lady Capulet.Verona's summer hath not such a flower.

Nurse.Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower.

Lady Capulet. What say you? can you love the gentleman?This night you shall behold him at our feast;60Read o'er the volumeof young Paris' face,And find delight writ there with beauty's pen.Examine everymarriedlineamentAnd see how one another lends content;And what obscur'd in this fair volume liesFind written in themargentof his eyes.This precious book of love, this unbound lover,To beautify him, only lacks acover;The fishlives in the sea, and 'tis much prideFor fair without the fair within to hide.70That book inmany'seyes doth share the glory,That in gold clasps locks in the golden story;So shall you share all that he doth possess,By having him making yourself no less.Speak briefly, can youlike ofParis' love?

Lady Capulet. What say you? can you love the gentleman?

This night you shall behold him at our feast;

Read o'er the volumeof young Paris' face,

And find delight writ there with beauty's pen.

Examine everymarriedlineament

And see how one another lends content;

And what obscur'd in this fair volume lies

Find written in themargentof his eyes.

This precious book of love, this unbound lover,

To beautify him, only lacks acover;

The fishlives in the sea, and 'tis much pride

For fair without the fair within to hide.

That book inmany'seyes doth share the glory,

That in gold clasps locks in the golden story;

So shall you share all that he doth possess,

By having him making yourself no less.

Speak briefly, can youlike ofParis' love?

Juliet.I'll look to like, if looking liking move;But no more deep will Iendartmine eyeThan your consent gives strength to make it fly.

Juliet.I'll look to like, if looking liking move;

But no more deep will Iendartmine eye

Than your consent gives strength to make it fly.

Enter aServant

Servant.Madam, the guests are come, supperserved up, you called, my young lady asked for,80the nursecursedin the pantry, and every thing inextremity. I must hence to wait; I beseech you,follow straight.

Servant.Madam, the guests are come, supper

served up, you called, my young lady asked for,

the nursecursedin the pantry, and every thing in

extremity. I must hence to wait; I beseech you,

follow straight.

Lady Capulet.We follow thee.—[Exit Servant.]Juliet, thecountystays.

Nurse.Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days.[Exeunt.

A Street

EnterRomeo,Mercutio,Benvolio,with five or sixMaskers, Torch-bearers,and others

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