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To wield old partisans, in hands as old,
[Exeunt Prince and Capulet, &c.
S C Ε Ν Ε II. La. Mon. Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach? Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?
Ben. Here were the servants of your adversary, And your's, close fighting, ere I did approach ; I drew to part them : in the instant came The fiery. Tybalt, with his fword prepar'd, Which, as he breath'd defiance to my ears, He fwung about his head, and cut the winds: Who, nothing hurt withal, hiss’d him in fcorn. While we were interchanging thrufts and blows, Came more and more, and fought on part and part, Till the Prince came, who parted either part.
La. Nlon. O where is Romeo! saw you him to-day? Right glad am I he was not at this fray.
Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd fun 'Pear'd through the golden window of the east, A troubled mind drew me to walk abroad : Where underneath the grove of sycamour, That westward rooteth from the city-side, So early walking did I see your fon. Tow'rds him I made; but he was ’ware of me, And stole into the covert of the wood. 1, measuring his affections by my own, (That most are busied when they're most alone), Pursued my humour, not pursuing him; And gladly shunn'd, who gladly fled from me.
Mon. Many a miorning hath he there been seen With tears augmenting the fresh morning-dew; Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep fighs:
But all fo soon as the all-cheering sun
Ben. My Noble uncle, do you know the cause?
Alon. Both by myself and many other friends:
tion. I would thou wert so happy by thy stay To hear true Thrift. Come, Madam, let's away.
Rom. Ak me, lad hours seem long !
Ben. It was: what sadness lengthens Romeo's hours?
Should be fo tyrannous and rough in proof!
Rom. Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, Should without
see path-ways to his ill!
Ben. No, cor, I rather weep.
Rom. Why, such is love's tranfgreflion.
[Going Ben. Soft, I'll go along. And if you leave me fo, you do me wrong.
Rom. Tut, I have lost myself, I am not here;
Ben. Tell me in sadness, who she is you love.
Rom. Bid a fick man in sadness make his will ?
Ben. I aim'd so near, when I suppos’d you lov’d.
Rom: But in that hit you miss ;- she'll not be hit
Ben. Be ruld by me, forget to think of her.
Ben. By giving liberty unto thine eyes;
Rom. 'Tis the way.
[Exeunt. SCENE III. Enter Capulet, Paris, and Servant,
Cap. And Montague is bound as well as I,
Par. Of honourable reck’ning are you both,
Cap But saying o'er what I have faid before :
Par. Younger than she are happy mothers made.
Cap. And too soon marr’d are those fo early made. The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but thes She is the hopeful lady of my earth : But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart, My will to her consent is but a part; If she agree, within her scope of choice Lies my confent, and fair according voice. This night I hold an old-accustom'd fealt, 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 even light. Such comfort as do lufty young men feel, When well-apparellid April on the heel Of limping winter treads, even fuch delight Among fresh female-buds shall you this night Inherit at my house; hear all, all fee. And like her moit whose merit most shall be : Which on more view of many, mine, being one, May stand in number, though in reck'ning none. Come, go with me. Go, firrah, trudge about Through fair Verona; find those perfons out, Whose names are written there ; and to them fay, 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 tailor with his last, and 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,