Romeo and Juliet
Act II, Scene 3
Friar Lawrence’s cell.
- Enter Friar Lawrence alone, with a basket.
Friar Lawrence1 - 30
- The grey-ey’d morn smiles on the frowning night,
- Check’ring the Eastern clouds with streaks of light,
- And fleckled darkness like a drunkard reels
- From forth day’s path and Titan’s fiery 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 from her womb children of divers kind
- We sucking on her natural bosom find:
- Many for many virtues excellent,
- None but for some, and yet all different.
- O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies
- In plants, herbs, stones, and their true qualities;
- For nought so vile that on the earth doth live
- But to the earth some special good doth give;
- Nor aught so good but, strain’d from that fair use,
- Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse.
- Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied,
- And vice sometime by action dignified.
- Enter Romeo.
- Within the infant rind of this weak flower
- Poison hath residence and medicine power;
- For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part,
- Being tasted, stays all senses with the heart.
- Two such opposed kings encamp them still
- In man as well as herbs, grace and rude will;
- And where the worser is predominant,
- Full soon the canker death eats up that plant.
- Good morrow, father.
Friar Lawrence32 - 43
- What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?
- Young son, it argues a distempered 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 with some distemp’rature;
- Or if not so, then here I hit it right—
- Our Romeo hath not been in bed tonight.
- That last is true—the sweeter rest was mine.
- God pardon sin! Wast thou with Rosaline?
Romeo46 - 47
- 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?
Romeo49 - 55
- 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 physic lies.
- I bear no hatred, blessed man, for lo
- My intercession likewise steads my foe.
Friar Lawrence56 - 57
- Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift,
- Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift.
Romeo58 - 65
- 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 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 today.
Friar Lawrence66 - 81
- Holy Saint Francis, what a change is here!
- Is Rosaline, that 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!
- The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears,
- Thy old groans yet ringing in mine ancient ears;
- Lo here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit
- Of an old tear that is not wash’d off yet.
- If e’er thou wast thyself 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 there’s no strength in men.
- Thou chidst me oft for loving Rosaline.
- For doting, not for loving, pupil mine.
- And badst me bury love.
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- Not in a grave,
- To lay one in, another out to have.
Romeo87 - 89
- I pray thee chide me not. Her I love now
- Doth grace for grace and love for love allow;
- The other did not so.
Friar Lawrence90 - 95
- O, she knew well
- Thy love did read by rote that could not spell.
- But come, young waverer, come go with me,
- In one respect I’ll thy assistant be;
- For this alliance may so happy prove
- To turn your households’ rancor to pure love.
- O, let us hence, I stand on sudden haste.
- Wisely and slow, they stumble that run fast.