Page:The Most Excellent and Lamentable Tragedie of Romeo and Iuliet (1623).djvu/16

 Rom. Out of her fauour where I am in loue.

Ben. Alas that loue o gentle in his view,

Should bee o tyranous and rough in proofe.

Romeo. Alas that loue, whoe view is muffled till,

Should without eyes, ee path-waies to his wil:

Where hall we dine? O me: what fray was here?

Yet tell me not, for I haue heard it all:

Heres much to doe with hate, but more with loue:

Why then O brawling loue, O louing hate,

O any thing of nothing irt created:

O heauie lightnee, erious vanity,

Mihapen Chaos of weleeming formes,

Feather of lead, bright moke, cold fier, icke health,

Still waking leepe, that is not what it is.

This loue feele I, that feele no loue in this,

Doet thou not laugh?

Ben. No Coze, I rather weepe.

Rom. Good heart at what?

Ben. At thy good hearts oppresion.

Romeo. Why uch is loues trangresion.

Griefes of my owne lie heauy in my bret,

Which thou wilt propagate to haue it pret,

With more of thine, this loue that thou hat howne,

Doth ad more griefe, to too much of mine owne.

Loue is a moke made with the fume of ighes,

Being purg’d, a fire parkling in louers eyes,

Being vext, a ea nouriht with louing teares,

What is it ele? a madnee mot dicreet,

A choking gall, and a preeruing weet:

Farewell my Coze.

Ben. Soft, I will goe along.

And if you leaue me o, you doe me wrong.

Rom. Tut, I haue left my elfe, I am not here,

This is not Romeo; hees ome other where.

Ben. Tell me in adnee, who is that you loue?

Rom. VVhat hall I grone and tell thee?

Ben. Grone, why no: but adly tell me who: Rom.