I drew to part them; in the instant came La. Mon. O, where is Romeo?-saw you him to-day? Right glad am I,a he was not at this fray. Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun I, measuring his affections by my own,- Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen, Should in the farthest east begin to draw Αν Away from light steals home my heavy son, Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out, "By my own, Which then most sought, where most might not be found, Being one too many by my weary self, Pursued my humour." The restoration of the first reading is clearly an improvement. The first ten beautiful lines of Montague's speech are not in the original quarto; VOL. VII. U Black and portentous must this humour prove, Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause? Is to himself—I will not say, how true- As is the bud bit with an envious worm, Or dedicate his beauty to the sun. a Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow, We would as willingly give cure, as know. 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. Ben. Good morrow, cousin. Rom. Ben. But new struck nine. [Exeunt MONTAGUE and Lady. 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 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. Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! neither is Benvolio's question, "Have you importun'd him?" nor the answer. We find them in (B), the quarto of 1599. a The folio and (C) read same. Theobald gave us sun; and we could scarcely wish to restore the old reading, even if the probability of a typographical error, same for sunne, were not so obvious. Rom. Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, Here 's much to do with hate, but more with love:- O heavy lightness! serious vanity! Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms! Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health! 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? At thy good heart's oppression. Rom. Why, such is love's transgression.- Ben. с Soft, I will go along; But sadly tell me, who. a love. [Going. Groan? why, no; (A), create. The modern editors have adopted this: but it introduces, improperly, a couplet amidst the blank-verse. b (4), rais'd. d (A), whom she is. с c (A), raging with a lover's tears. Rom. 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. Ben. I aim'd so near, when I suppos'd you lov'd. a Rom. A right good marksman !-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 arm'd, From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm’d. Þ That, when she dies, with beauty dies her store. с Ben. Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste? Rom. She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste; She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair, She hath forsworn to love; and, in that vow, Ben. Be rul'd by me, forget to think of her. To call hers, exquisite, in question more: a So (4). The folio and (C), A sick man in sadness makes. b So (4). The folio and (C), uncharm'd. c The scene ends here in (4); and the three first lines in the next scene are also wanting. (B) has them. What doth her beauty serve, but as a note Where I may read, who pass'd that passing fair? : Ben. I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-A Street. Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Servant. a Cap. And Montague is bound as well as I, Par. Of honourable reckoning are you both; Par. Younger than she are happy mothers made. a So (D). The folio omits And. b Lady of my earth. Fille de terre being the French phrase for an heiress, Steevens thinks that Capulet speaks of Juliet in this sense; but Shakspere uses earth for the mortal part, as in the 146th Sonnet, and in this play,— "Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth;" "Turn back, dull earth." My will to her consent. In proportion to, or with reference to, her consent. |