Romeo + Juliet Page #2

ROMEO:

Farewell, my cuz.

BENVOLIO:

Soft! I will go along; An if you leave me so, you do

me wrong.

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. 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; Let two more summers

wither in their pride, 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. This

night I hold an old accustom'd feast, At my poor

house look to behold this night Fresh female buds

that make dark heaven light. Hear all, all see,

Come, go with me.

BENVOLIO:

Tell me in sadness, who is that you love.

ROMEO:

In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.

BENVOLIO:

I aim'd so near, when I supposed you loved.

ROMEO:

A right good marks-man! And she's fair I love.

BENVOLIO:

A right fair mark, fair cuz, is soonest hit.

ROMEO:

Well, in that hit you miss: she'll not be hit With

Cupid's arrow; Nor bide the encounter of assailing

eyes, Nor open her lap to saint-seducing gold:

BENVOLIO:

Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?

ROMEO:

She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste.

BENVOLIO:

Be ruled by me, forget to think of her.

ROMEO:

Teach me how I should forget to think.

BENVOLIO:

By giving liberty unto thine eyes; Examine other

beauties. Why, Romeo, art thou mad?

ROMEO:

Not mad, but bound more than a mad-man is; Shut up in

prison, kept without my food, Whipp'd and tormented.

Good day, good fellow.

NEWSCASTER:

Now I'll tell you without asking the great rich

Capulet holds an old accustomed feast--A fair

assembly. Signior Placentio and his lovely daughters.

The lady widow of Vitravio; and her lovely nieces

Rosaline.

BENVOLIO:

At this same ancient feast of Capulet's Sups the fair

Rosaline whom thou so lovest, With all the admired

beauties of Verona:

NEWSCASTER:

If you be not of the house of Montague come and crush

a cup of wine.

BENVOLIO:

Go thither; and, with untainted eye, Compare her face

with some that I shall show, And I will make thee

think thy swan a crow.

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