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Jul. I shall forget, to have thee still stand there, Rememb’ring how I love thy company.
Rom. And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget,
Rom. I would, I were thy bird.
Sweet, so would I:
sorrow, That I shall say-good night, till it be morrow.
[Exit. Rom. Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy
breast! 'Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest! Hence will I to my ghostly father's cell; His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell. [Exit.
FRIAR LAURENCE'S CELL.
Enter Friar Laurence, with a basket. Fri. The grey-ey'd morn smiles on the frowning
: night, Checkering the eastern clouds with streaks of light; And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels From forth day's path-way, made by Titan's wheels : Now ere the sun advance his burning eye, The day to cheer, and night's, dank dew to dry, I must up-fill this osier cage
ours, With baleful weeds, and precious-juiced flowers. The earth, that's nature's mother, is her tomb; What is her burying grave, that is her womb: And from her womb children of divers kind We sucking on her natural bosom find; : Many for many virtues excellent, None but for some, and yet all different. O, mickle is the powerful grace, that lies In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities : For nought so vile that on the earth doth live, But to the earth some special good doth give; Nor aught so good, but, strain'd from that fair.
use, Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse: Virtue itself turns viče, being misapplied ; And vice sometime 's by action dignified. Within the infant rind of this small flower Poison hath residence, and med'cine power:
For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each
Rom. Good morrow, father!
mine. Fri. God pardon sin! wast thou with Rosaline?
Rom. With Rosaline, my ghostly father? no;
been then ?
That's by me wounded; both our remedies
foe. Fri. Be plain, good son, and homely in thy
drift; Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift. Rom. Then plainly know, my heart's dear love is
set On the fair daughter of rich Capulet: As mine on hers; so her's is set on mine; And all combin'd, save what thou must combine By holy marriage: When, and where, and how, We met, we wood, and made exchange of vow, I'll tell thee as we pass; but this I pray, That thou consent to marry us this day.
Fri. Holy saint Francis! what a change is here! Is Rosaline, whom thou didst love so dear, So soon forsaken? young men's love then lies Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes. Jesu Maria! what a deal of brine Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline! How much salt water thrown away in waste, To season love, that of it doth not taste! The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears, Thy old groans ring yet in my ancient ears; Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit Of an old tear that is not wäsh'd off yet: If e'er thou wast thyself, and these woes thine, Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline; And art thou chang'd? pronounce this sentence
Women may fall, when there's no strength in men.
Rom. Thou chidd'st me oft for loving Rosaline.
Not in a grave,
grace for grace, and love for love allow;
O, she knew. well,
Rom. O, let us hence; 'I stand on sudden haste. Fri. Wisely, and slow; They stumble, that run fast.
Enter Benvolio and Mercutio. Mer. Where the devil should this Romeo be?-Came he not home to-night?
Ben. Not to his father's; I spoke with his man. Mer. Ah, that same pale hard-hearted wench,
that Rosaline, Torments him so, that he will sure run mad.