O, where is Romeo? Saw you him today?

Lady Montague
O, where is Romeo? Saw you him today?
Right glad I am he was not at this fray.
Benvolio
Madam, an hour before the worshiped sun
Peered forth the golden window of the east,
A troubled mind drove 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.

Many a morning hath he there been seen,
With tears augmenting the fresh morning’s dew,
Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs.

Towards him I made, but he was ’ware of me
And stole into the covert of the wood.
I, measuring his affections by my own
(Which then most sought where most might not be found,
Being one too many by my weary self),
Pursued my humor, not pursuing his,
And gladly shunned who gladly fled from me.
Montague
Many a morning hath he there been seen,
With tears augmenting the fresh morning’s dew,
Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs.
But all so soon as the all-cheering sun
Should in the farthest east begin to draw
The shady curtains from Aurora’s bed,
Away from light steals home my heavy son
And private in his chamber pens himself,
Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out,
And makes himself an artificial night.
Black and portentous must this humor prove,
Unless good counsel may the cause remove.
Benvolio
My noble uncle, do you know the cause?
Montague
I neither know it nor can learn of him.
Benvolio
Have you importuned him by any means?
Montague
Both by myself and many other friends.
But he, his own affections’ counselor,
Is to himselfParenthesis—I will not say how true,
AlliterationBut to himself so secret and so close,
So far from sounding and discovery,
SimileAs is the bud bit with an envious worm
PersonificationEre he can spread his sweet leaves to the air
Or dedicate his beauty to the same.Apposition
Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow,
We would as willingly give cure as know.