For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part;

Being tasted, slays 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.


ROMEO.

Good morrow, father.


FRIAR LAWRENCE.

Benedicite!

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 uprous’d with some distemperature;

Or if not so, then here I hit it right,

Our Romeo hath not been in bed tonight.


ROMEO.

That last is true; the sweeter rest was mine.


FRIAR LAWRENCE.

God pardon sin. Wast thou with Rosaline?


ROMEO.

With Rosaline, my ghostly father? No.

I have forgot that name, and that name’s woe.


FRIAR LAWRENCE.

That’s my good son. But where hast thou been then?


ROMEO.

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 LAWRENCE.

Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift;

Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift.


ROMEO.

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 LAWRENCE.

Holy Saint Francis! What a change is here!