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"
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 sport of falconry
Juliet What satisfaction canst thou have tonight? Romeo The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine. Juliet I gave thee mine before thou didst request it. And yet I would it were to give again. Romeo Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love? Juliet But to be frank, and give it thee again, And yet I wish but for the thing I have. My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite. Read more about Act 2, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: "frank"
Juliet Well, do not swear. Although I joy in thee, I have no joy of this contract tonight. It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden, Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be Ere one can say 'It lightens.' Sweet, good night. This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet. Read more about Act 2, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: "bud of love"
Romeo What shall I swear by? Juliet Do not swear at all, Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, Which is the god of my idolatry, And I'll believe thee. Romeo If my heart's dear love — Juliet Well, do not swear. Although I joy in thee, I have no joy of this contract tonight. It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden, Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be Ere one can say 'It lightens.' Sweet, good night. Read more about Act 2, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: "contract"
Juliet Ay me! Romeo She speaks. O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art As glorious to this night, being o'er my head, As is a wingèd messenger of heaven Unto the white upturnèd wond'ring eyes Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him When he bestrides the lazy puffing clouds And sails upon the bosom of the air. Read more about Act 2, Scene 2: Popup Note Index Item: "winged messenger"
Mercutio Romeo, good night. I'll to my truckle-bed; This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep. Come, shall we go? Benvolio Go, then; for 'tis in vain To seek him here that means not to be found. [Exit] Read more about Act 2, Scene 1: Popup Note Index Item: "truckle-bed"