Ro. Parting is such sweete forrow,

That I fhall fay goodnight, till it be morrow.

Iu. Sleepe dwell vpon' thine eyes, peace in thy breast.
Ram. Would I were fleepe and peace so sweete to rest
The gray eyde morne fmiles on the frowning night,
Checkring the easterne clouds with freakes of light,
And darkneffe 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 fmiles on the frowning night
Checkring the easterne cloudes with streaks of light :
And fleckeld darkneffe 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 muft vpfill this offer 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 fucking on her naturall bofome find:
Many for many vertues excellent:

None but for fome, and yet all different.

O mickle is the powerfull grace that lies

In plants, hearbs, ftones, and their true qualities:
For nought fo vile, that on the earth doth liue,
But to the earth some special good doth giue :

Exit.

Thefe two lines, in the edition of 1637, are added to the foregoing fpeech. This line is likewife added to the following fpeech, into which four lines of the frier's have crept, through a blunder of the printer, and are dißinguished by italicks.

1 in..

Nor

Nor ought fo good, but ftraind from that faire vfe,
Reuolts from true birth, ftumbling on abuse.
Vertue it felfe turnes vice being mifapplied,
And vice fometime by action dignified.

Enter Romeo.

Within the infant rinde of this weake flower
Poyfon hath refidence, and medicine power:
For this being smelt with that part, cheares each part,
Being tasted flayes all fence with the heart.
Two fuch oppofed kings encampe them ftill,
In man as well as hearbes, grace and rude will:
And where the worfer is predominant,

Full foone the canker death eates vp that plant.
Ro. Good morrow father.

Fr. Benedicite.

What early tongue fo fweete faluteth me?
Young fonne, it argues a diftempered hed,
So foone to bid goodmorrow to thy bed:
Care keepes his watch in euery old mans eye,
And where care lodges, fleepe will neuer lye:
But where vnbrused youth with vnftuft braine
Doth couch his lims, there golden fleepe doth raign,
Therefore thy earlineffe doth me affure,

Thou art vproufd with fome diftemprature:
Or if not fo, then here I hit it right,

Our Romeo hath not beene in bed to night.

Ro. That laft is true, the fweeter reft was mine.

Fri. God pardon fin,

Rom. With Rofaline,

waft thou with Rofaline?

my ghostly father no,

I haue forgot that name, and that names woe.

Fri. Thats my good fon, but where haft thou beene then? Ro. Ile tell thee ere thou afke it me agen:

I haue beene feafting with mine enemie,
Wher on a fudden one hath wounded me:
Thats by me wounded, both our remedies
Within thy helpe and holy phificke lies:
I beare no hatred bleffed man for loe
My interceffion likewife fteads my foe.

Fri. Be plaine good fonne 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, fo hers is fet 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 paffe, but this I pray,

That thou confent to marrie vs to day.

Fri. Holy S. Francis what a change is here?
Is Rofaline that thou didst loue so deare,
So foone forfaken? young mens loue then lies
Not truely in their hearts, but in their eyes.
Iefu Maria, what a deale of brine

Hath wafht thy fallow cheekes for Rofaline?
How much falt water throwne away in wast,
To feafon loue that of it doth not taft.

The fun not yet thy fighes, 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 wafht off yet.

If ere thou waft thy felfe, and these woes thine,
Thou and these woes, were all for Rofaline.

And art thou chang'd? pronounce this fentence then,
Women may fall, when thers no ftrength in men.

Ro. Thou chidft me oft for louing Rofaline.
Fri. For doting, not for louing pupill mine.
Ro. And badft 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 :

Doth grace for

The other did not fo.

Fri. O fhe knew well,

Thy loue did read by rote, that could not fpell:
But come young wauerer, come goe with me,
In one refpect Ile thy affiftant be:

For this alliance may fo happy proue,

To turne your houfholds rancor to pure loue.
Rom. O let vs hence, I ftand on fudden haft.

Fri. Wifely and flow, they ftumble that run fast,

Enter Benuolio and Mercutio.

Exeunt.

Merc. Where the deu'le fhould this Romeo be? came hee

not home to night?

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

Mer. Why that fame pale hard hearted wench, that Rofaline torments him fo, that he will fure run mad.

Ben. Tibalt, the kinfman to old Capulet, hath fent a letter to his fathers house,

Mer. A challenge on my life.

.Ben. Romeo will anfwere it.

Mer. Any man that can write may answere a letter.

Ben. Nay, he will anfwere the letters maifter how he dares being dared.

Mer. Alas poore Romeo, hee is already dead, ftab'd with a white wenches blacke eye, runne through the eare with a loue

fong, 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 ?

Oh hees the couragious Mer. More then prince of cats. captaine of complements: he fights as you fing prickfong, keeps time distance and proportion, he refts his minum rests, one two and the third in your bofome: 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 reuerfo, the hay.

Ben. The what?

Mer. The pox of fuch antique lifping affecting phantacies, these new tuners of accent *: by lefu a very good blade, a very tall man, very good whore. Why is not this a lamentable thing grandfir, † that we fhould be thus afflicted with these strange flies: thefe fashion-mongers, these pardon‡ mees, who stand fo 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 fifhified? now is he for the nubers that Pe trarch flowed in: Laura to his lady, was a kitchin wench, marrie she had a better loue to berime her: Dido a dowdie, Cleopatra a gipfie, Hellen and Hero, hildings and harlots: Thifbie a grey eie or fo, but not to the purpose. Signior Romeo bon ieur, theres a French falutation to your French flop: you gaue vs the counterfeit fairely last night.

Rom. Good morrow to you both, what counterfeit did İ giue you?

Mer. The flip fir, the flip, can you not conceiue?

⚫ accents.

+ grand-fire,

pardona-.

Romeo.