Jul. But to be frank, and give it thee again; [Nurse calls within. I hear some noise within: dear love, adieu! Anon, good nurse! - Sweet Montague, be true. Stay but a little, I will come again. [Exit. Rom. O blessed, blessed night! I am afear'd, Being in night, all this is but a dream, Too flattering-sweet to be substantial. Enter JULIET, above. Jul. Three words, dear Romeo, and good night, indeed. If that thy bent of love be honourable, Thy purpose marriage, send 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'st not well, I do beseech thee, Nurse. [Within.] Madam. Jul. By and by, I come. - To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief: To-morrow will I send. Rom. So thrive my soul, Jul. A thousand times good night! [Exit. Rom. A thousand times the worse, to want thy Love goes toward love, as school-boys from their books; But love from love, toward school with heavy looks. [Retiring. Enter JULIET, above. Jul. Hist! Romeo, hist!-0, for a falc'ner's voice, To lure this tercel-gentle back again! Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud; Else would I tear the cave where echo lies, And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine With repetition of my Romeo's name. Rom. It is my soul that calls upon my name: How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, Like softest music to attending ears! Jul. I will not fail: 'tis twenty years till then. I have forgot why I did call thee back. Rom. Let me stand here till thou remember it. 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, Forgetting any other home but this. Jul. 'Tis almost morning, I would have thee gone; And yet no farther than a wanton's bird, Who lets it hop a little from her hand, Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves, Rom. I would I were thy bird. Jul. Sweet, so would I: Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing. row, 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! His help to crave, and my good hap to tell. [Exit. SCENE III. Friar LAURENCE'S Cell. Enter Friar LAURENCE, with a basket. Friar. The grey-ey'd morn smiles on the frowning night, Check'ring the eastern clouds with streaks of light; None but for some, and yet all different. O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities: But to the Earth some special good doth give; Nor aught so good, but strain'd from that fair use, For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part; Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart. Two such opposed kings encamp them still In man as well as herbs, grace, and rude. will; Full soon the canker death cats up that plant. Enter ROMEO. Rom. Good morrow, father! Fri. Benedicite! What early tongue so sweet saluteth me? But where unbruised youth, with unstuff'd brain, Thou art up-rous'd by some distemperature: Or if not so, then here I hit it right, Our Romeo hath not been in bed to-night. Rom. That last is true; the sweeter rest was mine. Fri. God pardon sin! wast thou with Rosaline? Rom. With Rosaline, my ghostly father? no; I have forgot that name, and that name's woe. Fri. That's my good son: but where hast thou been, then? Rom. I'll tell thee, ere thou ask it me again. I have been feasting with mine enemy; Where, on a sudden, one hath wounded me, My intercession 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 set On the fair daughter of rich Capulet: As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine; Fri. Holy Saint Francis! what a change is here! Jesu Maria! what a deal of brine Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline! |