I hear fome noife within; Dear love, adieu! Anon, good nurse !-Sweet Montague, be true. Rom. O bleffed bleffed night! I am afeard, Too flattering-fweet to be substantial. Re-enter JULIET, above. [Exit. Jul. Three words, dear Romeo, and good night, indeed. If that thy bent of love be honourable, Thy purpose marriage, fend me word to-morrow, By one that I'll procure to come to thee, Where, and what time, thou wilt perform the rite; And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay, And follow thee my lord throughout the world: Jul. I come, anon:-But if thou mean'ft not well, Nurfe. [Within.] Madam. Jul. By and by, I come : To cease thy fuit, and leave me to my grief: To-morrow will I fend. Rom. So thrive my foul, Jul. A thousand times good night! [Exit. Rom. A thousand times the worfe, to want thy light.Love goes toward love, as school-boys from their books; But love from love, toward school with heavy looks. Re-enter JULIET, above. [retiring flowly. Jul. Hift! Romeo, hift!-O, for a falconer's voice, To lure this taffel-gentle back again! Bondage is hoarfe, and may not speak aloud; Elfe would I tear the cave where echo lies, And And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine Rom. It is my foul, that calls upon my name : Jul. I will not fail; 'tis twenty years till then. I have forgot why I did call thee back. Rom. Let me ftand here till thou remember it. Jul. I fhall forget, to have thee still stand there, Remem'bring how I love thy company. Rom. And I'll still stay, to have thee ftill forget, Forgetting any other home but this. Jul. 'Tis almost morning, I would have thee gone : And yet no further than a wanton's bird; Who lets it hop a little from her hand, Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves, And with a filk thread plucks it back again, Rom. I would, I were thy bird. Jul. Sweet, fo would I : Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing. Good night, good night! parting is such sweet 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 ghoftly father's cell; [Exit. SCENE III. Friar Laurence's Cell. Enter Friar LAURENCE, with a basket. Fri. The grey-ey'd morn smiles on the frowning night, From forth day's path-way, made by Titan's wheels: With baleful weeds, and precious-juiced flowers. None but for fome, and yet all different. Nor aught fo good, but, ftrain'd from that fair use, Virtue itself turns vice, being mifapplied; And vice fometime 's by action dignified. Within the infant rind of this fmall flower For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part; Two fuch opposed foes encamp them still In man as well as herbs, grace, and rude will; And, where the worfer is predominant, Full foon the canker death eats up that plant. Enter ROMEO. Rom. Good morrow, father! Benedicite! Fri. Thou art up-rous'd by fome diftemp'rature; Or if not fo, then here I hit it right Our Romeo hath not been in bed to-night. Rom. That laft is true, the sweeter reft was mine. Fri. God pardon fin! waft thou with Rosaline? Rom. With Rofaline, my ghoftly father? no; I have forgot that name, and that name's woe. Fri. That's my good fon: But where haft thou been then? Rom. I'll tell thee, ere thou ask it me again. I have been feasting with mine enemy; Where, on a fudden, one hath wounded me, My interceffion likewise steads my 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 fet On the fair daughter of rich Capulet: : As mine on hers, fo hers is fet on mine; That thou confent to marry us this day. Fri. Holy faint Francis! what a change is here! Hath wash'd thy fallow cheeks for Rosaline! And art thou chang'd? pronounce this fentence then- Fri. Not in a grave, To lay one in, another out to have. Rom. I pray thee, chide not: fhe, whom I love now, Doth grace for grace, The other did not fo. Fri. and love for love allow; O, she knew well, Thy love did read by rote, and could not spell. |