The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works

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The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works Page 442

by William Shakespeare


  Being one too many by my weary self,

  Pursu’d my humour, not pursuing his,

  And gladly shunn’d who gladly fled from me.

  130

  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;

  But all so soon as the all-cheering sun

  Should in the farthest east begin to draw

  135

  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.

  140

  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 you importun’d him by any means?

  145

  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,

  150

  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.

  Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow,

  We would as willingly give cure as know.

  155

  Enter ROMEO.

  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 stay

  To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let’s away.

  Exeunt Montague and Lady Montague.

  BENVOLIO Good morrow, cousin.

  ROMEO Is the day so young?

  160

  BENVOLIO But new struck nine.

  ROMEO Ay me, sad hours seem long.

  Was that my father that went hence so fast?

  BENVOLIO

  It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo’s hours?

  ROMEO

  Not having that which, having, makes them short.

  BENVOLIO In love?

  165

  ROMEO Out.

  BENVOLIO Of love?

  ROMEO Out of her favour where I am in love.

  BENVOLIO Alas that love so gentle in his view

  Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof.

  170

  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 much to do with hate, but more with love.

  175

  Why then, O brawling love, O loving hate,

  O anything of nothing first create!

  O heavy lightness, serious vanity,

  Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms!

  Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health,

  180

  Still-waking sleep that is not what it is!

  This love feel I that feel no love in this.

  Dost thou not laugh?

  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.

  185

  Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast,

  Which thou wilt propagate to have it press’d

  With more of thine. This love that thou hast shown

  Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.

  Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs;

  190

  Being purg’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;

  195

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

  ROMEO Tut, I have lost myself, I am not here.

  This is not Romeo, he’s some other where.

  BENVOLIO Tell me in sadness who is that you love?

  ROMEO What, shall I groan and tell thee?

  200

  BENVOLIO Groan? Why no, but sadly tell me who.

  ROMEO Bid a sick man in sadness make his will?

  A 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.

  205

  ROMEO A right good markman; 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 hit

  With Cupid’s arrow, she hath Dian’s wit,

  And in strong proof of chastity well arm’d

  210

  From love’s weak childish bow she lives uncharm’d.

  She will not stay the siege of loving terms

  Nor bide th’encounter of assailing eyes

  Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold;

  O she is rich in beauty, only poor

  215

  That when she dies, with beauty dies her store.

  BENVOLIO

  Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?

  ROMEO

  She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste.

  For beauty starv’d with her severity

  Cuts beauty off from all posterity.

  220

  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.

  225

  ROMEO O teach me how I should forget to think.

  BENVOLIO By giving liberty unto thine eyes:

  Examine other beauties.

  ROMEO ’Tis the way

  To call hers, exquisite, in question more.

  These happy masks that kiss fair ladies’ brows,

  230

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

  He that is strucken blind cannot forget

  The precious treasure of his eyesight lost.

  Show me a mistress that is passing fair;

  What doth her beauty serve but as a note

  235

  Where I may read who pass’d that passing fair?

  Farewell, thou canst not teach me to forget.

  BENVOLIO I’ll pay that doctrine or else die in debt.

  Exeunt.

  1.2 Enter CAPULET, PARIS and a Servant.

  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 honourable reckoning are you both,

  And pity ’tis you lived at odds so long.

  5

  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 of fourteen years.

  Let two more summers wither in their pride

  10

  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 early made.

  Earth hath swallow’d all my hopes but she;

  She is
the hopeful lady of my earth.

  15

  But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,

  My will to her consent is but a part,

  And she agreed, within her scope of choice

  Lies my consent and fair according voice.

  This night I hold an old accustom’d feast

  20

  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.

  25

  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,

  30

  And like her most whose merit most shall be;

  Which, on more view of many, mine, being one,

  May stand in number, though in reckoning none.

  Come go with me.

  [To servant] Go sirrah, trudge about

  Through fair Verona, find those persons out

  35

  Whose names are written there, and to them say,

  My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.

  Exeunt Capulet and Paris.

  SERVANT 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

  40

  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.

  BENVOLIO

  Tut man, one fire burns out another’s burning,

  45

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

  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.

  50

  ROMEO Your plantain leaf is excellent for that.

  BENVOLIO For what, I pray thee?

  ROMEO For your broken shin.

  BENVOLIO Why, Romeo, art thou mad?

  ROMEO Not mad, but bound more than a madman is:

  Shut up in prison, kept without my food,

  55

  Whipp’d and tormented and – good e’en, good fellow.

  SERVANT God gi’ good e’en; I pray, sir, can you read?

  ROMEO Ay, mine own fortune in my misery.

  SERVANT Perhaps you have learned it without book.

  But I pray can you read anything you see?

  60

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

  SERVANT Ye say honestly; rest you merry.

  ROMEO Stay, fellow, I can read. [He reads the letter.]

  Signor Martino and his wife and daughters;

  County Anselm and his beauteous sisters;

  65

  The lady widow of Utruvio;

  Signor Placentio and his lovely nieces;

  Mercutio and his brother Valentine;

  Mine uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters;

  My fair niece Rosaline and Livia;

  70

  Signor Valentio and his cousin Tybalt;

  Lucio and the lively Helena.

  A fair assembly. Whither should they come?

  SERVANT Up.

  ROMEO Whither to supper?

  75

  SERVANT To our house.

  ROMEO Whose house?

  SERVANT My master’s.

  ROMEO Indeed I should have asked you that before.

  SERVANT Now I’ll tell you without asking. My master is

  80

  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.

  BENVOLIO At this same ancient feast of Capulet’s

  Sups the fair Rosaline, whom thou so loves,

  85

  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.

  ROMEO When the devout religion of mine eye

  90

  Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fire,

  And these who, often drown’d, could never die,

  Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars.

  One fairer than my love! The all-seeing sun

 

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