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Ben. Of love?

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Rom. Out of her favour, where I am in love.Ɛ ? Ben. Alas, that love, fo gentle in his view, Should be fo tyrannous and rough in proof!

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Rom. Alas, that love, whofe view is muffled ftill, A Should without eyes fee-path-ways to his will! waist Where shall we dine?-O me!-What fray was here? Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all. k u bnA Here's much to do with hate, but more with love.

[Striking bis breaft. 'Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate! I Oh, any thing of nothing firft created

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O heavy lightness serious vanity!w Treenaamd Mif-fhapen chaos of well-feeming forms!

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Feather of lead, bright fmoke, cold fire, fick health
Still-waking fleep, that is not what it is!
This love feel I, that feel nó 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.

2

Rom. Why, fuch is love's tranfgreffion.

Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breaft;

Which thou wilt propagate, to have them preft With more of thine; this love, that thou haft fhown, Doth add more grief to too much of mine own." 10 7051 hate another is no fuch uncom mon state, as can deserve all this toil of antithefis.

-to his will!] Sir T. Han

mers
and after him Dr. Warbur
ton, read, to his ill. The pre-
fent reading has fome obfcurity;
the meaning may be, that love
finds out means to purfue his de-
fire. 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

2 Why. Such is love's tranfgref fion. Such is the conle quence of unskilful and mistaken kindness,

This line is probably mutilated, for being intended to rhyme to, the line foregoing, it must have originally been complete in its measure.

Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of fighs,
'Being purg'd, a fire fparkling in lovers' eyes;
*Being vext, a fea nourish'd with lovers' tears;
What is it else? a madness most difcreet,
A choaking gall, and a preferving fweet.
Farewel, my cousin,

Ben. Soft, I'll go along.

And if

[Going.

you leave me fo, you do me wrong.
Rom. Tut, I have loft myself, I am not here,
This is not Romeo, he's fome other where.
Ben. Tell me in fadnefs, who the is
you love?
Rom. What, fhall I groan and tell thee?
Ben. Groan? why, no; but fadly tell me, who.
Rom. Bid a fick man in fadnefs make his will ?-
O word, ill urg'd to one that is fo ill!

In sadness, coufin, I do love a woman.

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Ben. I aim'd fo near, when I fuppos'd you lov'd. Rom. A right good marks-man;—and she's fair, I love.

Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. Rom. But, in that hit, you mifs; fhe'll not be hit With Cupid's arrow; the hath Dian's wit: And, in ftrong proof of chastity well arm'd, From love's weak childifh bow, the lives unharm❜d. She will not stay the fiege of loving terms, Nor 'bide th' encounter of affailing eyes, Nor ope her lap to faint-feducing gold.

Being purg'd, a fire Sparkling in lovers' eyes;] The authour may mean being purged of Smoke, but it is perhaps a meaning never given to the word in any other place. I would rather read,

Being orged, a fire Sparkling. Being excited and inforced. To arge the fire is the technical term. Being vex'd, &c.] As this

line ftands fingle, it is likely that the foregoing or following line that rhym'd to it, is loft.

5 Tell me in fadness,] That is, tell me gravely, tell me in Jerioufness.

in ftong proof] In chastity of proof, as we fay in armour of proof.

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O, she is rich in beauty; only poor

That when the dies, with Beauty dies her Store. Ben. Then fhe hath fworn, that she will still live chaften i

8 Rom. She hath, and in that Sparing makes huge wafte.

For beauty, ftarv'd with her feverity,

Cuts beauty off from all pofterity.

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She is too fair, too wife, 2 too wifely fair, A.
To merit blifs by making me despair;

She hath forfworn to love, and in that vow
Do I live dead, that live to tell it now.
Ben. Be rul'd by me, forget to think of her.
Rom. O, teach me how I fhould forget to think.
Ben. By giving liberty unto thine eyes;
Examine other Beauties.
Rom. 'Tis the way

1

To call hers exquifite in queftion more;
Those happy masks, that kiss fair ladies' brows,
Being black, puts us in mind they hide the fair
He that is ftrucken blind, cannot forget
The precious treasure of his eye-fight loft.
Shew me a miftrefs, that is paffing fair,
What doth her beauty ferve, but as a note,
Where I may read, who pafs'd that paffing fair?
Farewel, thou canft not teach me to forget.
Ben. I'll pay that doctrine, or elfe die in debt.
[Exeunt.

7 with Beauty dies her Store.] Mr. Theobald reads.

With her dies beauties fore. and is followed by the two fucceeding 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 ftore, or riches, can be deftroyed by death, who fhall, by the fame blow, put an end to beauty.

8 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.

SCENE

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Enter Capulet, Paris, and Servant.

Cap. And Montague is bound as well as I,
In penalty alike, and 'tis not hard I think,
For men fo old as we to keep the peace.

Par. Of honourable reck❜ning are you both,
And, pity 'tis, you liv'd at odds fo long.
But now, my Lord, what fay you to my Suit?
Cap. But faying o'er what I have faid before;
My child is yet a stranger in the world,

She hath not feen the Change of fourteen years;
Let two more fummers wither in their pride,
Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride.

Par. Younger than the are happy mothers made.
Cap. And too foon marr'd are thofe fo early made..
The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she,
She is the hopeful lady of my earth,
But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,
My will to her confent is but a part;
If the agree, within her fcope of choice
Lies my confent, and fair according voice:
This night, I hold an old-accuftom'd Feaft,
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

2

* Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven's light.

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Such comfort as 3 do lufty young men feel,
When well-apparel'd April on the heel
Of limping Winter treads, ev'n fuch delight
Among fresh female buds fhall you this night
Inherit at my houfe; hear all, all fee,

And like her moft, whofe merit most shall be:
4 Which on more view of many, mine, being one,
May ftand in number, tho' in reck❜ning none.
Come, go with me. Go, firrah, trudge about,
Through fair Verona; find thofe perfons out,
Whose names are written there; and to them fay,
My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.

nonfenfe fhould be reformed thus,

Earth treading fars that make

dark EVEN light.

i. e. When the evening is dark and without ftars, these earthly ftars fupply their place, and light it up. So again in this play,

Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night,

ear.

Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's WARBURTON. But why nonfenfe? Is any thing more commonly faid, than that beauties eclipfe the fun? Has not Pope the thought and the word?

Sol through white curtains foot
a tim❜rous ray,
And ope'd thofe eyes that must

eclipse the day.
Both the old and the new read-
ing are philofophical nonfenfe,
but they are both, and both e-
qually poetical fenfe.

3 -do lufty young men feel,] To fay, and to fay in pompous words, that a young man shall feel

[Exeunt Capulet and Paris.

as much in an assembly of beauties, as young men feel in the month of April, is furely to waste found upon a very poor sentiment. I read,

Such comfort as do lufty yeomen feel.

You shall feel from the fight and
converfation of thofe ladies, fuch
hopes of happiness and fuch
pleafure, as the farmer receives
from the fpring, when the plenty
of the year begins, and the prof-
pect of the harvest fills him with
delight.

4 Which on more view of many,
mine, being one,
May fand in number, the in

reck'ning none] The first of thefe lines I do not understand. The old folio gives no help; the paffage is there, Which one more view. I can offer nothing bet ter than this:

Within your view of many,
nine being one,
May fand in number, &c,

Sery.

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