Servant.
Cap.
And note Mountague note 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.
Par.
Of honourable reck'ning are you both;
And pity 'tis, you liv'd 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.
Cap.
And too soon mar'd are those so early made:
The note earth hath note swallow'd all my hopes but she,
She is note the hopeful lady of my earth:
But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,
My will to her consent is but a part;
An she agree note, 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
-- 13 --
Earth-treading stars, that make dark heaven light:
Such comfort, as do lusty young men feel
When well-apparel'd April on the heel
Of limping winter treads, even such delight
Among fresh female buds note shall you this night
Inherit at my house; hear all, all see,
And like her most whose merit most shall be;
On which note more note view of many14Q1389, mine, being one,
May note stand in number, though in reck'ning none.
Come, go with me:—Go, sirrah, trudge about
Through fair Verona; find those persons out,
Whose names are written &dagger2; there; and to them say,
My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.
[Exeunt Capulet, and Paris.
Ser.
Find them out, whose names are written here:
It is written—that the shoemaker should meddle with
his yard, and the taylor with his last, the fisher with his
pencil, and the painter with his nets; but I am sent to
find those persons out, whose names are here writ, and
can never find what names the writing person hath here note
writ. I must to the learned:—In good time.
Enter Benvolio, and Romeo.
Ben.
Tut, man! one fire burns out another's burning,
One note 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 note,
And the rank poison of the old will die.
Rom.
Your plantan leaf is excellent for that.
Ben.
For what, I pray thee?
Rom.
For your broken shin.
Ben.
Why, Romeo, art thou mad?
-- 14 --
Rom.
Not mad, but bound more than a mad-man is;
Shut up in prison, kept without my food,
Whipt, and tormented, and—Good den, good fellow.
Ser.
God gi' go' den. I pray, sir, can you read?
Rom.
Ay, mine own fortune in my misery.
Ser.
Perhaps, you have learned it without book: But,
I pray, can you read any thing you see?
Rom.
Ay, if I know the letters, and the language.
Ser.
Ye say honestly; Rest you merry!
Rom.
Stay, fellow; I can read.
[reads.
Signior Martino, and his wife, and daughter note; County
Anselme, and his beauteous sisters; The lady widow of
Vitruvio; 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; [giving back the Note.] Whither should they come?
Ser.
Up.
Rom.
Whither?14Q1390
Ser.
To our house.
Rom.
Whose house?
Ser.
My master's.
Rom.
Indeed, I should have ask'd you that before.
Ser.
Now I'll tell you without asking:
My master is the great rich Capulet;
And if you be not of the house of the Mountagues,
I pray you, come; and crush note a cup of wine.
Rest you merry.
[Exit.
Ben.
At this same ancient feast of Capulet's
Sups the fair Rosaline, whom thou so lov'st; note
-- 15 --
With all the admired beauties of Verona:
Go thither; and, with unattainted eye,
Compare her face with some that I shall show note,
And I will make thee note think thy swan a crow.
Rom.
When the devout religion of mine eye
Maintains such falshood, then turn tears to fires note!
And these,—who, often drown'd, could never die,—
Transparent hereticks, be burnt for liars!
One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun
Ne'er saw her match, since first the world begun.
Ben.
Tut, tut! you note saw her fair, none else being by,
Herself poiz'd with herself in either eye:
But in those crystal note scales let there be weigh'd
Your lady love note against some other maid
That I will show note you, shining at this feast,
And she shall scant shew well note, that now shews best. note
Rom.
I'll go along, no such sight to be shown,
But to rejoice in splendor of mine own.
[Exeunt.
Edward Capell [1767], Mr William Shakespeare his comedies, histories, and tragedies, set out by himself in quarto, or by the Players his Fellows in folio, and now faithfully republish'd from those Editions in ten Volumes octavo; with an introduction: Whereunto will be added, in some other Volumes, notes, critical and explanatory, and a Body of Various Readings entire (Printed by Dryden Leach, for J. and R. Tonson [etc.], London) [word count] [S10601].
