1 To see now how a jest shall come about.
2 O, then I see that mad men have no ears.
3 If they do see thee, they will murder thee.
4 This is dear mercy, and thou see'st it not.
5 O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you.
6 Villain am I none; Therefore farewell; I see thou know'st me not.
7 Come, Montague, for thou art early up, To see thy son and heir more early down.
8 Here comes your father, tell him so yourself, And see how he will take it at your hands.
9 I warrant you, I dare draw as soon as another man, if I see occasion in a good quarrel, and the law on my side.
10 Lovers can see to do their amorous rites By their own beauties: or, if love be blind, It best agrees with night.
11 We see the ground whereon these woes do lie, But the true ground of all these piteous woes We cannot without circumstance descry.
12 God mark thee to his grace Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nurs'd: And I might live to see thee married once, I have my wish.
13 Wife, we scarce thought us blest That God had lent us but this only child; But now I see this one is one too much, And that we have a curse in having her.
14 Hear all, all see, And like her most whose merit most shall be: Which, on more view of many, mine, being one, May stand in number, though in reckoning none.
15 Examine every married lineament, And see how one another lends content; And what obscur'd in this fair volume lies, Find written in the margent of his eyes.
16 Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun Peer'd forth the golden window of the east, A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad, Where underneath the grove of sycamore That westward rooteth from this city side, So early walking did I see your son.