Iul. What's he that follows here that would not dance?
Nur. I know not
Iul. Go aske his name: if he be married,
My graue is like to be my wedded bed
Nur. His name is Romeo, and a Mountague,
The onely Sonne of your great Enemie
Iul. My onely Loue sprung from my onely hate,
Too early seene, vnknowne, and knowne too late,
Prodigious birth of Loue it is to me,
That I must loue a loathed Enemie
Nur. What's this? whats this?
Iul. A rime, I learne euen now
Of one I dan'st withall.
One cals within, Iuliet.
Nur. Anon, anon:
Come let's away, the strangers all are gone.
Exeunt.
Chorus. Now old desire doth in his death bed lie,
And yong affection gapes to be his Heire,
That faire, for which Loue gron'd for and would die,
With tender Iuliet matcht, is now not faire.
Now Romeo is beloued, and Loues againe,
A like bewitched by the charme of lookes:
But to his foe suppos'd he must complaine,
And she steale Loues sweet bait from fearefull hookes:
Being held a foe, he may not haue accesse
To breath such vowes as Louers vse to sweare,
And she as much in Loue, her meanes much lesse,
To meete her new Beloued any where:
But passion lends them Power, time, meanes to meete,
Temp'ring extremities with extreame sweete.
Enter Romeo alone.
Rom. Can I goe forward when my heart is here?
Turne backe dull earth, and find thy Center out.
Enter Benuolio, with Mercutio.