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 daylight 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?

means?

[him. Mon. I neither know it, nor can learn of Ben. Have you importuned him by any [friends: Mon. Both by myself and many other But he, his own affections' counsellor, Is to himself,-I will not say how trueBut to himself so secret and so close, So far from sounding and discovery, As is the bud bit with an envious worm, Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, Or dedicate his beauty to the sun. [grow, Could we but learn from whence his sorrows 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.
[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 thence so fast?
Ben. It was.-What sadness lengthens Ro-
[them short.
Rom. Not having that, which having, makes
Ben. In love?
Rom. Out-

meo's hours?

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?-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! serions vanity!
Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms!
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick
health!

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,
[own.
Doth add more grief to too much of mine
Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs;
Being purged, 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.
Ben.

[Going, Soft, I will go along; An if you leave me so, you do me wrong. Rom. Tut, I have lost myself; I am net here;

This is not Romeo, he's some other where. Ben. Tell me in sadness*, who she is you love.

Rom. What, shall I groan, and tell thee? Ben. Groan? why, no; But sadly tell me, who. [will:Rom. Bid a sick man in sadness make his Ab, word ill urged to one that is so ill!— ̧ In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman. Ben. I aim'd so near, when I supposed you loved. [fair I love. Rom. A right good marksman !-And she? Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. [be hit Rom. Well, in that hit, you miss : she'll not 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 onharm'd.

She will not stay the siege of 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.
Ben. Then she hath sworn, that she will
still live chaste ?

Farewell; thou canst not teach me to forget. Ben. I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt. [Exeunt.

SCENE II. A Street. 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. [both;

Par. Of honourable reckoning are you And pity 'tis, 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. [made.

Cap. And too soon marr'd are those so early The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but She is the hopeful lady of my earth; [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 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 make dark heaven

light:

Such comfort, as do lusty young men feel
When well-apparell'd April on the heel
Of limping winter treads, even such delight
Among fresh female buds shall you this night
Inherit + at my house; hear all, all see,
And like her most, whose merit most shall be:
Such, amongst view of many, mine being one,
May stand in number, though in reckoning

none.

Come, go with me ;-Go, sirrah, trudge about Through fair Verona; find those persons out, Whose names are written there, [Gives a Puper.] and to them say,

My house and welcome on their pleasure stay. [Exeunt CAPULET and PARIS. Serv. 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 lessen'd by another's anguish ;

▸ Account, estimation.

Estimation.

Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning; One desperate grief cures with another's languish:

Take thou some new infection to thy eye,
And the rank poison of the old will die.
Rom. Your plantain leaf is excellent for
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:

1

[that.

Shut up in prison, kept without my food, Whipp'd, and tormented, and-Good e'en, good fellow.

Serv. God gi' good e'en.-I pray, sir, can you read?

Rom. Ay, mine own fortune in my misery. Serv. Perhaps you have learn'd it without book:

But I pray, can you read any thing you see? Rom. Ay, if I know the letters, and the language.

Serv. 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 Virtruvio; 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; [Gives back the Note.] Whether should they come? Serv. Up.

Rom. Whither?

Serv. To supper; to our house.

Rom. Whose house?

Serv. My master's. [before. Rom. Indeed, I should have asked you that Serv. Now I'll tell yon 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 wines. Rest you merry. [Exit. Ben. At this same ancient feast of Capulet's Sups the fair Rosaline, whom thou so lovest; 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 [fires! Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to And these,-who, often drown'd, 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 began. [by, Ben. Tut? you saw her fair, none else being Herself poised with herself in either eye: But in those crystal scales, let there be weigh'd Your lady's love against some other maid

Here are the beetle-brows, shall blush for me. Ben. Come, knock, and enter; and no sooner in,

To soar with his light feathers; and so bound, I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe: Under love's heavy burden do I sink.

[love;

Mer. And, to sink in it, should you burden Too great oppression for a tender thing. Rom. Is love a tender thing? it is too rough, Too rude, too boist'rous; and it pricks like thorn. [with love; Mer. If love be rough with you, be rough| Prick love for pricking, and you beat love Give me a case to put my visage in: [down. [Putting on a Mask. A visor for a visor!-What care 1, What curious eye doth quote || deformities?

But every man betake him to his legs. Rom. A torch for me: let wantons, light of heart,

Tickle the senseless rushes T with their heels; For I am proverbed with a grandsire phrase, I'll be a candle-holder, and look on,The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done **. Mer. Tut! dun's the mouse, the constable's own word: [mire If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the Of this (save reverence) love, wherein thou stick'st

Up to the ears.-Come, we burn day-light, ho.
Rom. Nay, that's not so.
Mer.
I mean, sir, in delay
We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day.
Take our good meaning; for our judgment sits
Five times in that, ere once in our five wits.
Rom. And we mean well, in going to this
But 'tis no wit to go.
[mask;
Mer.
Why, may one ask?
Rom. I dreamt a dream to-night.
Mer.
And so did I.
Rom. Well, what was yours?
Mer.
That dreamers often lie.
Rom. In bed, asleep, while they do dream
things true.
[with you.
Mer. O, then I see queen Mab hath been
She is the fairies' midwife; and she comes
In shape no bigger than an agate-stone
On the fore-finger of an alderman,
Drawn with a team of little atomies ++
Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep: [legs
Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners'
The cover of the wings of grasshoppers;
The traces, of the smallest spider's web;
The collars, of the moonshine's wat'ry beams:
Her whip, of cricket's bone; the lash, of film:
Her waggoner, a small grey-coated gnat,
Not half so big as a round little worm
Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid:
Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut,
Made by the joiner squirrel, or old grub,
Time out of mind the fairies' coach-makers.
And in this state she gallops night by night
Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of
love:
[straight:
On courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies
O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on
fees:

O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream; Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues, Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted

are,

Sometime the gallops o'er a courtier's nose, And then dreams he of smelling out a suit: And sometimes comes she with a tithe-pig's Tickling a parson's nose as 'a lies asleep, [tail, Then dreams he of another benefice:

Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats, Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, Of healths five fathom deep; and then anon Drums in his ear; at which he starts, and wakes; And, being thus frighted, swears a prayer or And sleeps again. This is that very Mab, [two, That plats the manes of horses in the night; And bakes the elf-locks in foul sluttish hairs, Which, once untangled,much misfortune bodes. This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs, That presses them, and learns them first to Making them women of good carriage. [bear, This, this is she

Rom. Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace; Thou talk'st of nothing. Mer. True, I talk of dreams; Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy; Which is as thin of substance as the air; And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes Even now the frozen bosom of the north, And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, Turning bis face to the dew-dropping south. Ben. This wind you talk of, blows us from ourselves;

Supper is done, and we shall come too late.
Rom. I fear, too early: for my mind misgives,
Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars,
Shall bitterly begin his fearful date
With this night's revels; and expire the term
Of a despised life, closed in my breast,
By some vile forfeit of untimely death:
But He, that hath the steerage of my course,
Direct iny sail!-On, lusty gentlemen.
Ben. Strike, drum.

[Exeunt. SCENE V. A Hall in Capulet's House. Musicians waiting. Enter Servants.

1 Serv. Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away? he shift a trencher! he scrape a trencher!

2 Serv. When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's hands, and they unwashed too, 'tis a foul thing.

1 Serv. Away with the joint-stools, remove the court-cupboard t, look to the plate:-good thou, save me a piece of marchpanet; and, as thou lovest me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone, and Nell.-Antony! and Potpan!

2 Serv. Ay, boy; ready.

1 Serv. You are looked for, and called for, asked for, and sought for, in the great chamber. 2 Sery. We cannot be here and there too. Cheerly, boys; be brisk a while, and the longer liver take all. [They retire behind. Enter CAPULET, &c., with the Guests and the Maskers. Cap. Gentlemen, welcome! ladies, that have their toes [you: Unplagued with corns, will have a bout with Ah ha, my mistresses! which of you all Will now deny to dance? she that inakes dainty, she,

I'll swear hath corns; Am I come near you now! You are welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the That I have worn a visor; and could tell [day, A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear, [gone: Such as would please ;-'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis You are welcome, gentlemen!-Come, musi

cians play.

A hall! a hall! give room, and foot it, girls.
[Music plays, and they dance.
More light, ye knaves; and turn the tables up,
And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot.
Ah, sirrah, this unlook'd-for sport comes well.
Nay, sit, nay sit, good cousin Capulet;
For you and I are past our dancing days:
How long is't now, since last yourself and
Were in a mask?
2 Cap.

By'r lady, thirty years.

1 Cap. What, man! 'tis not so much, 'tis not Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio, [so much: Come peutecost as quickly as it will, [mask'd. Some five and twenty years; and then we 2 Cap. 'Tis more, 'tis more: his son is elder, His son is thirty. {sir: 1 Cap.

Will you tell me that? His son was but a ward two years ago. Rom. What lady's that, which doth enrich Of yonder knight? [the hand [bright!

Serv. I know not, sir. Rom. O, she doth teach the torches to burn Her beauty hangs upon the cheek f night Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear: Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows, [stand, The measure ¶ done, I'll watch her place of And,touching hers, make happy my rude hand. Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night. Tyb. This, by his voice, should be a Montague:[slave Fetch me my rapier, boy:-What! dares the Come hither, cover'd with an antic face, To fleer and scorn at our solemnity? Now, by the stock and honour of my kin, To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.

1 Cap. Why, how now, kinsman? wherefore storm you so?

Tyb. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe; A villain, that is hither come in spite, To scorn at our solemnity this night 1 Cup. Young Romeo is't? Tyb.

I Almond-cake. The danae.