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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! [Erit. 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. [Retiring slowly.
Re-enter JULIET, above.
Jul. Hist! Romeo, hist!—O, 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 !
Rom. My sweet!
Jul. At what o'clock to-morrow Shall I send to thee?
Rom. At the hour of nine.
• 3 The male of the gosshawk. WOL. IX. E
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 further than a wanton's bird; Who lets it hop a little from her hand, Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves," And with a silk thread plucks it back again, So loving-jealous of his liberty. Rom. I would, I were thy bird. Jul. Sweet, so would I : Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing. Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow, That I shall say—good night, till it be morrow. [Erit. 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 hap5 to tell. [Erit.
Enter Friar LAURENCE, with a Basket. Pri. The grey-ey'd morn smiles on the frowning night, Checkering the eastern clouds with streaks of light;
4 Fetters. 5 Chance, fortune.
And flecked 6 darkness like a drunkard reels
* Spotted, streaked. 7 The sun. 8 yirtue. E 2
Rom. Good morrow, father Fri. Benedicite 1 What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?— 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-rous’d by some distemp'rature; 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 2 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, That's by me wounded; both our remedies Within thy help and holy physick lies : I bear no hatred, blessed man; for, lo, 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 ;