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Rom. The exchange of thy love's, faithful yow
for mine. Jul. I gave thee mine before thou didst request it; And yet I would it were to give again. · Róm. Would'st thou withdraw it? for what purpose,
[Nurse calls within
Řom. O blessed blessed night! Į am afeard,
Re-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 :
Nurse. [Within.] Madam.
Jul. I come, anon:-But if thou mean'st not well, I do beseech thee,
Nurse. (Within.] Madam.
By and by, I come
So thrive my soul,
Jul. A thousand times good night! [Exit. Rom. A thousand times the worse, 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. Jul. Hist! Romeo, hist!-0, for a falconer's
voice, To lure this tassel-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 musick to attending ears !
Jul. Romeo !
At what o'clock to-morrow
At the hour of nine. 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:
? To lure this tassel-gentle back again!] The tassel or tiercel (for so it should be spelt) is the male of the gossharok; so called, because it is a tierce or third less than the female. This is equally true of all birds of
And yet no further than a wanton's bird ;
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. [E.rit.
Friar Laurence's Cell.
Enter Friar LAURENCE, with a Basket. Fri. The grey-ey'd morn smiles on the frowning
night, Checkering the castern 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 of 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 Aecked darkness -] Flecked is spotted, dappled, streaked, or variegated.
And from her womb children of: divers kindi.
Enter ROMEO. Rom. Good morrow, father ! Fri.,
Benedicite! What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?Young son, it argues a distemper'd head, So-soon to bid good morrow to thy þed ; Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye, And where care lodges, sleep will never lie; But where unbruised youth with unstuff'd brain Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth seign:
powerful grace,] Efficacious virtue.
with that part -] i.e. with the part which smells; with the olfactory nerves.
Therefore thy earliness-doth me-assure,
Rom. Fhat last is true, the sweeter rest was mine.
Rom. With Rosaline, my ghostly father? no;
Fri. Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift;
is set On the fair daughter of rich Capulet : As mine on her's, sp hers is set on mine; And all combin’d, save what thou must combine By holy marriage: When, and where, and how, We met, we woo'd, 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!