The Same. FRIAR LAURENCES Cell. |
| |
Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and ROMEO. |
| Fri. L. So smile the heaven upon this holy act, |
| That after hours with sorrow chide us not! |
| Rom. Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can, |
| It cannot countervail the exchange of joy |
| That one short minute gives me in her sight: |
| Do thou but close our hands with holy words, |
| Then love-devouring death do what he dare; |
| It is enough I may but call her mine. |
| Fri. L. These violent delights have violent ends, |
| And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, |
| Which, as they kiss consume: the sweetest honey |
| Is loathsome in his own deliciousness |
| And in the taste confounds the appetite: |
| Therefore love moderately; long love doth so; |
| Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. |
| |
Enter JULIET. |
| Here comes the lady: O! so light a foot |
| Will neer wear out the everlasting flint: |
| A lover may bestride the gossamer |
| That idles in the wanton summer air, |
| And yet not fall; so light is vanity. |
| Jul. Good even to my ghostly confessor. |
| Fri. L. Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both. |
| Jul. As much to him, else are his thanks too much. |
| Rom. Ah! Juliet, if the measure of thy joy |
| Be heapd like mine, and that thy skill be more |
| To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath |
| This neighbour air, and let rich musics tongue |
| Unfold the imagind happiness that both |
| Receive in either by this dear encounter. |
| Jul. Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, |
| Brags of his substance, not of ornament: |
| They are but beggars that can count their worth; |
| But my true love is grown to such excess |
| I cannot sum up half my sum of wealth. |
| Fri. L. Come, come with me, and we will make short work; |
| For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone |
| Till holy church incorporate two in one. [Exeunt. |
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