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Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd Suri
Tow'rds him I made; but he was 'ware of me,
And gladly fhun'd, who gladly fled from me. Mon. Many a morning hath he there been feen With tears augmenting the frefh morning-dew, Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep fighs; But all fo foon as the all-chearing Sun
Should, in the furtheft Eaft, begin to draw
Black and portentous muft this humour prove,
Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause? Mon. I neither know it, nor can learn it of him. 7 Ben. Have you importun'd him by any means Mon. Both by myself and many other friends; But he, his own affections' counsellor,
Is to himself, I will not fay, how true,
Ere he can spread his fweet leaves to the Air,
Could we but learn from whence his forrows grow, We would as willingly give Cure, as know.
Ben. See, where he comes. So please you, step afide,
I'll know his grievance, or be much deny❜d.
Mon. I would, thou wert fo happy by thy stay
To hear true fhrift. Come, Madam, let's away.
Ben. Good-morrow, coufin.
Ben. But new ftruck nine.
Rom. Ah me, fad hours feem long!
-Was that my father that went hence fo faft?
Ben. In love?
& Or dedicate his beauty to the Same.] When we come to confider, that there is fome power elfe befides balmy air, that brings forth, and makes the tender buds fpread themfelves, I do not think it improbable that the Poet wrote;
Or dedicate his beauty to the Sun,
Or, according to the more ob
folete fpelling, Sunne; which brings it nearer to the traces of the corrupted text. THEOB.
I cannot but fufpect that fome lines are loft, which connected this fimile more closely with the foregoing fpeech; thefe lines, if fuch there were, lamented the danger that Romeo will die of his melancholy, before his virtues or abilities are known to the world.
Ben. Of love?
Rom. Out of her favour, where I am in love.
Here's much to do with hate, but more with love.
[Striking his breaft.
Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate!
Oh, any thing of nothing first create !
O heavy lightness! ferious vanity!
Mif-fhapen chaos of well-feeming forms!
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, fick health!
This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
Doft thou not laugh?
Ben. No, coz, I rather weep.
Rom. Good heart, at what?
Ben. At thy good heart's oppreffion.
Rom. Why, fuch is love's tranfgreffion.
Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast;
Which thou wilt propagate, to have them preft
9-to his will!] Sir T. Han mer, and after him Dr. Warbur ton, read, to his ill. The prefent reading has fome obfcurity; the meaning may be, that love finds out means to purfue his defire. That the blind fhould find paths to ill is no great wonder.
Why then, O brawling love, &c. Of thefe lines neither the fenfe nor occafion is very evident. He is not yet in love with an enemy, and to love one and
Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of fighs,
Ben. Soft, I'll go along.
And if you leave me fo, you do me wrong.
Ben. 5 Tell me in sadness, who she is you love?
In fadnefs, cousin, I do love a woman.
Ben. I aim'd fo near, when I fuppos'd you lov'd.
Bea. A right fair mark, fair coz, is fooneft hit.
O, she is rich in beauty; only poor
That when the dies, 7 with Beauty dies her Store. Ben. Then he hath fworn, that fhe will ftill live chafte ?
Rom. She hath, and in that Sparing makes huge
For beauty, ftarv'd with her severity,
Ben. Be rul'd by me, forget to think of her.
Rom. 'Tis the way
To call hers exquifite in queftion more;
7 with Beauty dies her Store.] Mr. Theobald reads.
With her dies beauties ftore. and is followed by the two fuc ceeding editors. I have replaced the old reading, becaufe I think it at least as plaufible as the correction. She is rich, fays he, in beauty, and only poor in being fubject to the lot of huma
nity, that her store, or riches, can be destroyed by death, who fhall, by the fame blow, put an end to beauty..
Rom. She bath, and in that Sparing, &c.] None of the following fpeeches of this fcene in the first edition of 1597. POPE.
9 too wifely fair,] Hanmer. For, wifely too fair.