Rom. Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still,
Should without eyes see pathways to his will![89] 170
Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here?
Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.
Here's much to do with hate, but more with love:
Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate!
O any thing, of nothing first create![90] 175
O heavy lightness! serious vanity!
Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms![91]
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health!
Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!
This love feel I, that feel no love in this. 180
Dost thou not laugh?
Ben. No, coz, I rather weep.
Rom. Good heart, at what?[92]
Ben. At thy good heart's oppression.
Rom. Why, such is love's transgression.
Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast;[93]
Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest[94] 185
With more of thine: this love that thou hast shown
Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.[95]
Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs;[96]
Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;[97]
Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears:[98] 190
What is it else? a madness most discreet,
A choking gall and a preserving sweet.
Farewell, my coz.
Ben. Soft! I will go along:[99]
An if you leave me so, you do me wrong.[100]
Rom. Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here;[101] 195
This is not Romeo, he's some other where.
Ben. Tell me in sadness, who is that you love.[102]
Rom. What, shall I groan and tell thee?[103]