Mercutio Why, is not this better now than groaning for love? Now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo, now art thou what thou art by art as well as by nature; for this drivelling love is like a great natural that runs, lolling, up and down to hide his bauble in a hole. Benvolio Stop there, stop there! Mercutio Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair. Read more about Act 2, Scene 4: Popup Note Index Item: "stop in my tale, against the hair"
Benvolio Tybalt, the kinsman of old Capulet, Hath sent a letter to his father's house. Mercutio A challenge, on my life. Benvolio Romeo will answer it. Mercutio Any man that can write may answer a letter. Benvolio Nay, he will answer the letter's master — how he dares, being dared. Mercutio Alas poor Romeo! He is already dead, stabbed with a white wench's black eye, run through the ear with a love-song, the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow-boy's butt-shaft — and is he a man to encounter Tybalt? Read more about Act 2, Scene 4: Popup Note Index Item: "white wench's black eye"
Friar Laurence If e'er thou wast thyself and these woes thine, Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline. And art thou changed? Pronounce this sentence then: Women may fall when there's no strength in men. Romeo Thou chid'st me oft for loving Rosaline. Read more about Act 2, Scene 3: Popup Note Index Item: "Women may fall"
Friar Laurence 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 washed 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 ring yet in my ancient ears — Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit Of an old tear that is not washed off yet. Read more about Act 2, Scene 3: Popup Note Index Item: "To season love"
Friar Laurence 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, blessèd man, for, lo, My intercession likewise steads my foe. Read more about Act 2, Scene 3: Popup Note Index Item: "our remedies"
Friar Laurence 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, blessèd man, for, lo, My intercession likewise steads my foe. Read more about Act 2, Scene 3: Popup Note Index Item: "feasting with mine enemy"
Friar Laurence 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 diverse kind We, sucking on her natural bosom, find; Many for many virtues excellent, None but for some, and yet all different. Read more about Act 2, Scene 3: Popup Note Index Item: "tomb" and "womb"
[Outside Friar Laurence's cottage. Enter Friar Laurence with a basket] Friar Laurence The grey-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night, Chequering the eastern clouds with streaks of light; And fleckled darkness, like a drunkard, reels From forth day's path and Titan's burning wheels. Read more about Act 2, Scene 3: Popup Note Index Item: "Titan's burning wheels"
Juliet 'Tis almost morning, I would have thee gone; And yet no farther than a wanton's bird, Who lets it hop a little from his hand, Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves, And with a silk thread plucks it back again, So loving-jealous of his liberty. Romeo I would I were thy bird. Juliet Sweet, so would I, Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing. Read more about Act 2, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: "a wanton's bird"
Juliet A thousand times good night! [Exit, above] Romeo A thousand times the worse, to want thy light. Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from their books, But love from love, toward school with heavy looks. [Romeo retiring slowly. Re-Enter Juliet, above] Juliet Hist, Romeo, hist! O, for a falc'ner'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.' Read more about Act 2, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: "the cave where Echo lies"