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+ Ro. Parting is such sweete forrow, That I shall say goodnight, till it be morrow.

* Iu. Sleepe dwell vpon' thine eyes, peace in thy breast.

Rom. Would I were sleepe and peace so sweete to rest
The gray eyde morne smiles on the frowning night,
Checkring the easterne clouds with streakes of light,
And darknese fleckeld like a drunkard reeles,
From forth dayes pathway, made by Titans wheeles,
Hence will I to my ghostly friers close cell,
His helpe to craue, and my deare hap to tell.

Enter Frier alone with a basket.
Fri. The grey eyde morne smiles on the frowning night
Checkring the easterne cloudes with streaks of light :
And fleckeld darknesle like a drunkard reeles,
From forth daies path, and Titans burning wheeles :
Now ere the fun aduance his burning eye,
The day to cheere, and nights danke dew to dry,
I must vpfill this ofter cage of ours,
With balefull weedes, and precious iuiced flowers,
The earth that's natures mother is † her tombe,
What is her burying graue, that is her wombe:
And from her wombe children of diuers kind
We sucking on her naturall bosome find :
Many for many vertues excellent :
None but for some, and yet all different.
O mickle is the powerfull grace that lies
In plants, hearbs, stones, and their true qualities :
For nought fo vile, that on the earth doth live,
But to the earth some special good doth giue :

+ These two lines, in the edition of 1637, are added to the foregoing speech.

* This line is likewise added to the following speech, into which four lines of the frier's have crept, through a blunder of the printer, and are disinguished by italicks. I in


Nor ought so good, but straind from that faire vse,
Reuolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse.
Vertue it selfe turnes vice being misapplied,
And vice sometime by action dignified.

Enter Romeo.
Within the infant rinde of this weake flower
Poyfon hath residence, and medicine power:
For this being smelt with that part, cheares each part,
Being tasted Nayes all sence * with the heart.
Two such opposed kings encam pe them still,
In man as well as hearbes, grace and rude will :
And where the worser is predominant,
Full soone the canker death eates vp that plant.

Ro. Good morrow father.

Fr. Benedicite.
What early tongue so sweete faluteth me?
Young sonne, it argues a distempered hed,
So soone to bid goodmorrow to thy bed :
Care keepes his watch in euery old mans eye,
And where care lodges, sleepe will neuer lye:
But where vnbrused youth with vnstuft braine
Doth couch his lims, there golden Neepe doth raign,
Therefore thy earlinesle doth me assure,
Thou art vprould with some distemprature :
Or if not so, then here I hit it right,
Our Romeo hath not beene in bed to night.

Ro. That last is true, the sweeter relt was mine,
Fri. God pardon fin, waft thou with Rosaline ?

Rom. With Rosaline, my ghostly father no,
I haue forgot that name, and that names woe.

Fri. Thats my good son, but where hast thou beene then ? Ro. Ile tell thee ere thou aske it me agen:

* fenfes, H2

I haue

I haue beene feasting with mine enemie,
Wher on a sudden one hath wounded me :
Thats by me wounded, both our remedies
Within thy helpe and holy phisicke lies :
I beare no hatred blessed man : for loe
My interceffion likewise steads my foe.

Fri. Be plaine good sonne and homely in thy drift,
Ridling confeflion, findes but ridling shrift,

Rom. Then plainely know my harts deare loue is set
On the faire daughter of rich Capulet :
As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine
And all combind, faue what thou must combine
By holy marriage : when and where, and how,
We met, we wooed, and made exchange of vow :
Ile tell thee as we passe, but this I pray,
That thou consent to marrie vs to day.

Fri. Holy S. Francis what a change is here?
Is Rosaline that thou didst loue so deare,
So soone forsaken ? young mens loue then lies
Not truely in their hearts, but in their eyes.
Iefu Maria, what a deale of brine
Hath washt thy fallow cheekes for Rosaline?
How much salt water throwne away in wast,
To season loue that of it doth not taft.
The sun not yet thy sighes, from heauen cleares
Thy old grones yet ringing * in my + auncient eares :
Lo here vpon thy cheeke the staine doth fit,
Of an old teare that is not washt off yet.
If ere thou wast thy felfe, and these woes thine,
Thou and these woes, were all for Rosaline.
And art thou chang'd ? pronounce this sentence then,
Women may fall, when thers no strength in men.

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Ro. Thou chidst me oft for louing Rofaline.
Fri. For doting, not for louing pupill mine.
Ro. And badst me bury loue.

Fri. Not in a graue,
To lay one in, an other out to haue.

Ro. I pray thee chide me not, her I loue' now


grace, and loue for loue alow : The other did not fo.

Fri. O she knew well,
Thy loue did read by rote, that could not spell :
But come young wauerer, come goe

with me,
In one respect Ile thy assistant be:
For this alliance may so happy proue,
To turne your housholds rancor to pure loue.

Rom. O let vs hence, I stand on sudden hast.
Fri. Wisely and now, they stumble that run fast,


Enter Benuolio and Mercutio. Merc. Where the deu'le should this Romeo be ? came hee not home to night?

Ben. Not to his fathers, I spoke with his man.

Mer. Why that same pale hard hearted wench, that Rosaline torments him so, that he will sure run mad.

Ben. Tibalt, the kinsman to old Capulet, hath sent a letter to his fathers house,

Mer. A challenge on my life.
Ben. Romeo will answere it.
Mer. Any man that can write may answere a letter.

Ben. Nay, he will answere the letters maister how he dares being dared.

Mer. Alas poore Romeo, hee is already dead, stabd with white wenches blacke eye, runne through the eare with a love


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song, the very pinne of his heart, cleft with the blinde boweboyes but-shaft, and is hee a man to encounter Tibalt ?

Rom. Why what is Tibalt ?

Mer. More then prince of cats. Oh hees the couragious captaine of complements: he fights as you sing pricksong, keeps time distance and proportion, he rests his minum rests, one two and the third in your bosome : the very butcher of a filke button a dualist a dualist, a gentleman of the very first house of the first and second cause, ah the immortall passado, the punto reuerso, the hay.

Ben. The what ?

Mer. The pox of such antique lisping affecting phantacies, these new tuners of accent *: by lesu a very good blade, a very tall man, å very good whore. Why is not this a lamentable thing grandfir, † that we should be thus afflicted with these strange Aies : these fashion-mongers, these pardon I mees, who stand so much on the new forme, that they can not fit at ease on the old bench. O their bones, their bones,

Enter Romeo.

Ben. Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo.

Mer. Without his roe, like a dryed hering, O flesh, flesh, how art thou filhified ? now is he for the nūbers that Pe. trarch Aowed in : Laura to his lady, was a kitchin wench, marrie me had a better loue to berime her: Dido a dowdie, Cleopatra a gipsie, Hellen and Hero, hildings and harlots : Thisbie a grey eie or so, but not to the purpose. Signior Romeo bon ieur, theres a French salutation to your French Pop : you gaue vś the counterfeit fairely last night.

Rom. Good morrow to you both, what counterfeit did i giue you? Mer. The nip sir, the tip, can you not conceiue ?

. accents. + grand-fire, 1 pardona-,


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