Well, in that hit you miss: she’ll not be hit 
With Cupid’s arrow, she hath Dian’s wit; 
And in strong proof of chastity well arm’d,
From love’s weak childish bow she lives uncharm’d. 
She will not stay the siege of loving terms 
Nor bide th’encounter of assailing eyes, 
Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold: 
O she’s rich in beauty, only poor 
That when she dies, with beauty dies her store.
BENVOLIO.
Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?
ROMEO.
She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste; 
For beauty starv’d with her severity, 
Cuts beauty off from all posterity. 
She is too fair, too wise; wisely too fair, 
To merit bliss by making me despair. 
She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow 
Do I live dead, that live to tell it now.
BENVOLIO.
Be rul’d by me, forget to think of her.
ROMEO.
O teach me how I should forget to think.
BENVOLIO.
By giving liberty unto thine eyes; 
Examine other beauties.
ROMEO.
’Tis the way To call hers, exquisite, in question more. 
These happy masks that kiss fair ladies’ brows, 
Being black, puts us in mind they hide the fair; 
He that is strucken blind cannot forget 
The precious treasure of his eyesight lost. 
Show me a mistress that is passing fair, 
What doth her beauty serve but as a note 
Where I may read who pass’d that passing fair?
Farewell, thou canst not teach me to forget.
BENVOLIO.
I’ll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt. [_Exeunt._]
SCENE II. A Street. Enter Capulet, Paris and Servant.
CAPULET.

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