Romeo and Juliet Page #6

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divers kind We

sucking on her

natural bosom find,

O, mickle is the

powerful grace that

lies In herbs,

plants, stones, and

their true qualities:

Within the infant

rind of this sweet flower

Within the infant

rind of this...

Within the infant

rind of this sweet

flower Poison

hath residence and

medicine power:
For

this, being smelt,

with that part cheers

each part; Being

tasted, slays all

senses with the heart.

Good morrow, father.

Benedicite!

No. no, no.

Young son, it argues

a distemper'd head So

soon to bid good

morrow to thy bed:

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 reign:

Therefore thy earliness

doth me assure

Thou art up-roused by

some distemperature;

Or if not so, then

here I hit it right,

Our Romeo hath not

been in bed to-night.

That last is true;

the sweeter rest was mine

God pardon sin!

wast thou with Rosaline?

With Rosaline,

my ghostly father?

no;

I have forgot that name,

and that name's woe.

That's my good son:

but where hast

thou been, then?

Where on a sudden

one hath wounded me,

That's by me wounded:

both our remedies

Within thy help and

holy physic lies:

I bear no hatred,

blessed man, for, lo,

My intercession

likewise steads my foe.

Be plain, good son,

and homely in

thy drift;

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; And all

combined, save what

thou must combine

By holy marriage:

but this I pray, That

thou consent to marry

us to-day.

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!

And art thou changed?

pronounce this

sentence then,

Women may fall,

when there's no

strength in men.

Thou chid'st

me oft for

loving Rosaline.

For doting, not

for loving, pupil mine.

And bad'st

me bury love.

Not in a grave,

To lay one in,

another out to have.

I pray thee, chide

not; she whom I love

now Doth grace for

grace and love for

love allow; The

other did not so.

In one respect

I'll thy assistant

be; For this alliance

may so happy prove,

To turn your

households' rancour

to pure love.

The clock struck

nine when I did send

the nurse; In half an

hour she promised

to return.

Perchance she

cannot meet him:

that's not so.

love's heralds should

be thoughts, Which

ten times faster

glide than the

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