Ben. Tell me in sadness, who is that you love. Ben. But sadly tell me, who. Groan? why, no; Rom. Bid a sick man in sadness make his will:Ah, 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 suppos'd you lov'd. 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. That, when she dies, with beauty dies her store.a Rom. She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste; For beauty, starv'd with her severity, Cuts beauty off from all posterity. She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair, She hath forsworn to love; and, in that vow, Do I live dead, that live to tell it now. Ben. Be rul'd 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. To call hers, exquisite, in question more: a The scene ends here in (A); and the three first lines in the next scene are also wanting. (B) has them. These happy masks, that kiss fair ladies' brows, SCENE II.-A Street. Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Servant. Par. Of honourable reckoning are you both; Par. Younger than she are happy mothers made. Cap. And too soon marr'd are those so early made. Earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she, She is the hopeful lady of my earth: b -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 : C "Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth." My will to her consent. In proportion to, or with reference to, her consent. An she agree, within her scope of choice And like her most, whose merit most shall be: Whose names are written there, [gives a paper.] 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 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, Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning; And the rank poison of the old will die. Rom. Your plaintain-leaf is excellent for that. 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, Whipp'd, and tormented, and-Good-e'en, good fellow. [Reads. Signor Martino, and his wife and daughters; County Anselme, and his beauteous sisters; the lady widow of Vitruvio; Signor Placentio, and his lovely nieces; Mercutio, and his brother Valentine; Mine uncle Capulet, his wife, and daughters; My fair niece Rosaline; Livia; Signor Valentio, and his cousin Tybalt; Lucio, and the lively Helena. A fair assembly; [gives back the note.] Whither should they come? Serv. Up. Rom. Whither to supper? Serv. To our house. Rom. Whose house? Serv. My master's. Rom. Indeed, I should have ask'd you that before. Serv. 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. 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, [Exit. Compare her face with some that I shall show, One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun SCENE III.-A Room in Capulet's House. Enter LADY CAPULET and NURSE. La. Cap. Nurse, where 's my daughter? call her forth to me. Nurse. Now by my maiden-head,—at twelve year old, I bade her come.-What, lamb! what, lady-bird!— God forbid !-where 's this girl?—what, Juliet! awhile, La. Cap. This is the matter:-Nurse, give leave We must talk in secret.-Nurse, come back again; a Scales-used as a singular noun. |