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.
Rom. Thou chid'st me oft for loving Rosaline.
Friar. For doting, not for loving, pupil mine.
Rom. And bad'st me bury love.
Friar. Not in a grave
To lay one in, another out to have.
Rom. I pray thee chide not. She whom I love now
Doth grace for grace and love for love allow.
The other did not so.
Friar. 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' rancour to pure love.
Rom. O, let us hence! I stand on sudden haste.
Friar. Wisely, and slow. They stumble that run fast.
Exeunt.
Scene IV.
A street.
Enter Benvolio and Mercutio.
Mer. Where the devil should this Romeo be?
Came he not home to-night?
Ben. Not to his father's. I spoke with his man.
Mer. Why, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline,
Torments him so that he will sure run mad.
Ben. Tybalt, the kinsman to old Capulet,
Hath sent a letter to his father's house.
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