[0:00]Both Montegue is bound as well as I and penalty alike, and it's not hard, I think, for men so old as we to keep the peace. A vulnerable reckoning I did both. It is a pity you lived at odd so long, but now, my Lord, let's say into my suit. The same I have said before. My child is but a stranger in the world. She's not seen the change of 14 years. Let two more summers wither in their pride to may think her ripe to be a bride. Younger than she our happy mothers make. And too soon marked are those so early. The earth has swallowed all my hopes but she. She is the hopeful lady of my love. But woo her, gentle Paris. Get her heart. My will to her consent is but a part. And she agreed within her scope of choice lies my consent and fair according voice. This night I hold an old accustomed feast where to I invited many a guest such as I love and you one more among the storm most welcome. Shall make my number more. Among fresh female buds shall this night inherit at my house. Hear all, all see, and like her most whose merit most shall be, which in more view of many in mind being one, may stand in number, though in reckoning none. Come, come with me. Go, sirrah. Trudge about through fair Verona, find out those persons whose names are written there. There. And to them say my house and welcome on their pleasures they.
[1:37]Find out them whose names are written there. It is written that the shoemaker should mellow with his yard and the tailor with his lat. The fisher with his pencil and the painter with his net. But I am sent to find those persons whose names are here written and can never find what names the writing person hath here written.
[2:10]I must have learned it. And in good time. Taught man.
[2:17]One fire burns out with another's burning. One pain is lessened by another's anguish. Turn giddy and behold by backward turning. One desperate grief is cured by another's languish. Take thou some new infection to thine eye and the rank poison of the old will die. Your medicine is excellent for that. For what, pretty? For your broken shin. What, Romeo, I'm going mad. No, not mad but bound more than a mad man is. Shut up in prison, kept without my food, whipped, and good fellow. Cut you content. I pray, sir, can, can you read? I, if I know the letters and the language. My fortune and my misery. Well, perhaps you read it without book. I pray, when you read, anything you see. I, if I know the letters and the language. They say honestly. Rest you, Mary. Oh, stay, fellow. I can read. Senior Martino and his wife and daughters. Count Anselm and his beauties sisters. The lady widow of Vitruvio, Senior Pacentio and his lovely nieces. Mercutio and my uncle Valentine. My fair niece Rosaline. Livia, Senior Valentino and his cousin Tibult, Lucian and lovely Helena. A fair assembly, whither should they come?
[3:46]To supper, to our house. Whose house?
[3:52]My master's. Indeed, I should have asked you that before. And now I shall tell you without asking. My master is the great rich Capulet. And be you not of the house of Montague? I pray, come and crush a cup of wine. Rest you, Mary.
[4:22]At this same ancient feast of Capulet. Sups the fair Rosaline, whom thou so loved with all the admired beauties of Verona. Go there and with an attentive eye compare her face with one that I shall show, and I shall make thee think thy swan a crow. And the devout religious of mine eyes maintain such falsehood, then turn tears to fire. And those who often drowned could never die. Transparent heretics be burned for liars. Taught man, you saw her fair. None else being by, herself poised with herself in either eye. But in that crystal scales, let there be weighed your lady's love against some other maid that I shall show you shining at this feast. She shall scarce show well that thou shows best. I'll go along. No such sight to be shown, but to rejoice in the splendor of mine own.
