<SPEECH 1><ACT 2><SCENE 3><32%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<32%>
	The grey-ey'd morn smiles on the frowning night,
	Chequering the eastern clouds with streaks of light,
	And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels
	From forth day's path and Titan's fiery wheels:
	Now, ere the sun advance his burning eye
	The day to cheer and night's dank dew to dry,
	I must up-fill this osier cage of ours
	With baleful weeds and precious-juiced flowers.
	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 divers kind
	We sucking on her natural bosom find,
	Many for many virtues excellent,
	None but for some, and yet all different.
	O! mickle is the powerful grace that lies
	In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities:
	For nought so vile that on the earth doth live
	But to the earth some special good doth give,
	Nor aught so good but strain'd from that fair use
	Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse:
	Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied,
	And vice sometime's by action dignified.
	Within the infant rind of this weak flower
	Poison hath residence and medicine power:
	For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part;
	Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart.
	Two such opposed foes 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.

</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 2><ACT 2><SCENE 3><33%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<33%>
	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 up-rous'd by some distemperature;
	Or if not so, then here I hit it right,
	Our Romeo hath not been in bed to-night.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 3><ACT 2><SCENE 3><33%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<34%>
	God pardon sin! wast thou with Rosaline?
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 4><ACT 2><SCENE 3><34%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<34%>
	That's my good son: but where hast thou been, then?
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 5><ACT 2><SCENE 3><34%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<34%>
	Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift;
	Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 6><ACT 2><SCENE 3><34%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<34%>
	Holy Saint Francis! what a change is here;
	Is Rosaline, whom 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 wash'd 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 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.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 7><ACT 2><SCENE 3><35%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<35%>
	For doting, not for loving, pupil mine.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 8><ACT 2><SCENE 3><35%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<35%>
	Not in a grave,
	To lay one in, another out to have.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 9><ACT 2><SCENE 3><35%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<35%>
	O! she knew well
	Thy love did read by rote and 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.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 10><ACT 2><SCENE 3><35%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<35%>
	Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 11><ACT 2><SCENE 6><45%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<45%>
	So smile the heaven upon this holy act,
	That after hours with sorrow chide us not!
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 12><ACT 2><SCENE 6><45%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<45%>
	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.

<STAGE DIR>
<Enter Juliet.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Here comes the lady: O! so light a foot
	Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint:
	A lover may bestride the gossamer
	That idles in the wanton summer air,
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 13><ACT 2><SCENE 6><45%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<45%>
	Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 14><ACT 2><SCENE 6><46%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<46%>
	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.
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt.>
</STAGE DIR>

</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 15><ACT 3><SCENE 3><57%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<57%>
	Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man:
	Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts,
	And thou art wedded to calamity.

</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 16><ACT 3><SCENE 3><57%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<57%>
	Too familiar
	Is my dear son with such sour company:
	I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 17><ACT 3><SCENE 3><57%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<57%>
	A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips,
	Not body's death, but body's banishment.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 18><ACT 3><SCENE 3><57%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<58%>
	Hence from Verona art thou banished.
	Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 19><ACT 3><SCENE 3><58%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<58%>
	O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness!
	Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind prince,
	Taking thy part, hath rush'd aside the law,
	And turn'd that black word death to banishment:
	This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 20><ACT 3><SCENE 3><58%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<59%>
	Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak a word.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 21><ACT 3><SCENE 3><59%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<59%>
	I'll give thee armour to keep off that word;
	Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy,
	To comfort thee, though thou art banished.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 22><ACT 3><SCENE 3><59%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<59%>
	O! then I see that madmen have no ears.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 23><ACT 3><SCENE 3><59%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<59%>
	Let me dispute with thee of thy estate.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 24><ACT 3><SCENE 3><59%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<59%>
	Arise; one knocks: good Romeo, hide thyself.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 25><ACT 3><SCENE 3><59%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<59%>
	Hark! how they knock. Who's there? Romeo arise;
	Thou wilt be taken. Stay awhile! Stand up;
<STAGE DIR>
<Knocking.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Run to my study. By and by! God's will!
	What wilfulness is this! I come, I come!
<STAGE DIR>
<Knocking.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Who knocks so hard? whence come you? what's your will?
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 26><ACT 3><SCENE 3><60%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<60%>
	Welcome, then.

</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 27><ACT 3><SCENE 3><60%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<60%>
	There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 28><ACT 3><SCENE 3><60%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<60%>
	O woeful sympathy!
	Piteous predicament! Even so lies she,
	Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering.
	Stand up, stand up; stand, an you be a man:
	For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand;
	Why should you fall into so deep an O?
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 29><ACT 3><SCENE 3><61%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<61%>
	Hold thy desperate hand:
	Art thou a man? thy form cries out thou art:
	Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denote
	The unreasonable fury of a beast:
	Unseemly woman in a seeming man;
	Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both!
	Thou hast amaz'd me: by my holy order,
	I thought thy disposition better temper'd.
	Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself?
	And slay thy lady that in thy life lives,
	By doing damned hate upon thyself?
	Why rail'st thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth?
	Since birth, and heaven, and earth, all three do meet
	In thes at once, which thou at once wouldst lose.
	Fie, fie! thou sham'st thy shape, thy love, thy wit,
	Which, like a usurer, abound'st in all,
	And usest none in that true use indeed
	Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit.
	Thy noble shape is but a form of wax,
	Digressing from the valour of a man;
	Thy dear love, sworn, but hollow perjury,
	Killing that love which thou hast vow'd to cherish;
	Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love,
	Misshapen in the conduct of them both,
	Like powder in a skilless soldier's flask,
	To set a-fire by thine own ignorance,
	And thou dismember'd with thine own defence.
	What! rouse thee, man; thy Juliet is alive,
	For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead;
	There art thou happy: Tybalt would kill thee,
	But thou slew'st Tybalt; there art thou happy too:
	The law that threaten'd death becomes thy friend,
	And turns it to exile; there art thou happy:
	A pack of blessings light upon thy back;
	Happiness courts thee in her best array;
	But, like a misbehav'd and sullen wench,
	Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love.
	Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable.
	Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed,
	Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her;
	But look thou stay not till the watch be set,
	For then thou canst not pass to Mantua;
	Where thou shalt live, till we can find a time
	To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends,
	Beg pardon of the prince, and call thee back
	With twenty hundred thousand times more joy
	Than thou went'st forth in lamentation.
	Go before, nurse: commend me to thy lady;
	And bid her hasten all the house to bed,
	Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto:
	Romeo is coming.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 30><ACT 3><SCENE 3><62%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<62%>
	Go hence; good-night; and here stands all your state:
	Either be gone before the watch be set,
	Or by the break of day disguis'd from hence:
	Sojourn in Mantua; I'll find out your man,
	And he shall signify from time to time
	Every good hap to you that chances here.
	Give me thy hand; 'tis late: farewell; goodnight.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 31><ACT 4><SCENE 1><72%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<72%>
	On Thursday, sir? the time is very short.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 32><ACT 4><SCENE 1><72%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<72%>
	You say you do not know the lady's mind:
	Uneven is the course, I like it not.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 33><ACT 4><SCENE 1><72%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<72%>
<STAGE DIR>
<Aside.>
</STAGE DIR> I would I knew not why it should be slow'd.
	Look, sir, here comes the lady towards my cell.

</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 34><ACT 4><SCENE 1><72%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<73%>
	That's a certain text.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 35><ACT 4><SCENE 1><73%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<73%>
	My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now:
	My lord, we must entreat the time alone.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 36><ACT 4><SCENE 1><73%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<73%>
	Ah! Juliet, I already know thy grief;
	It strains me past the compass of my wits:
	I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it,
	On Thursday next be married to this county.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 37><ACT 4><SCENE 1><74%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<74%>
	Hold, daughter; I do spy a kind of hope,
	Which craves as desperate an execution
	As that is desperate which we would prevent.
	If, rather than to marry County Paris,
	Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself,
	Then is it likely thou wilt undertake
	A thing like death to chide away this shame,
	That cop'st with death himself to 'scape from it;
	And, if thou dar'st, I'll give thee remedy.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 38><ACT 4><SCENE 1><75%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<75%>
	Hold, then; go home, be merry, give consent
	To marry Paris: Wednesday is to-morrow!
	To-morrow night look that thou lie alone,
	Let not thy nurse lie with thee in thy chamber:
	Take thou this vial, being then in bed,
	And this distilled liquor drink thou off;
	When presently through all thy veins shall run
	A cold and drowsy humour, for no pulse
	Shall keep his native progress, but surcease;
	No warmth, no breath, shall testify thou liv'st;
	The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade
	To paly ashes; thy eyes' windows fall,
	Like death, when he shuts up the day of life;
	Each part, depriv'd of supple government,
	Shall, stiff and stark and cold, appear like death;
	And in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk death
	Thou shalt continue two-and-forty hours,
	And then awake as from a pleasant sleep.
	Now, when the bridegroom in the morning comes
	To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead:
	Then—as the manner of our country is—
	In thy best robes uncover'd on the bier,
	Thou shalt be borne to that same ancient vault
	Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie.
	In the mean time, against thou shalt awake,
	Shall Romeo by my letters know our drift,
	And hither shall he come; and he and I
	Will watch thy waking, and that very night
	Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua.
	And this shall free thee from this present shame;
	If no unconstant toy, nor womanish fear,
	Abate thy valour in the acting it.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 39><ACT 4><SCENE 1><75%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<76%>
	Hold; get you gone, be strong and prosperous
	In this resolve. I'll send a friar with speed
	To Mantua, with my letters to thy lord.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 40><ACT 4><SCENE 5><82%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<82%>
	Come, is the bride ready to go to church?
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 41><ACT 4><SCENE 5><83%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<83%>
	Peace, ho! for shame! confusion's cure lives not
	In these confusions. Heaven and yourself
	Had part in this fair maid; now heaven hath all,
	And all the better is it for the maid:
	Your part in her you could not keep from death,
	But heaven keeps his part in eternal life.
	The most you sought was her promotion,
	For 'twas your heaven she should be advanc'd;
	And weep ye now, seeing she is advanc'd
	Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself?
	O! in this love, you love your child so ill,
	That you run mad, seeing that she is well:
	She's not well married that lives married long;
	But she's best married that dies married young.
	Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary
	On this fair corse; and, as the custom is,
	In all her best array bear her to church;
	For though fond nature bids us all lament,
	Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 42><ACT 4><SCENE 5><83%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<84%>
	Sir, go you in; and, madam, go with him;
	And go, Sir Paris; every one prepare
	To follow this fair corse unto her grave.
	The heavens do lower upon you for some ill;
	Move them no more by crossing their high will.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 43><ACT 5><SCENE 2><88%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<88%>
	This same should be the voice of Friar John.
	Welcome from Mantua: what says Romeo?
	Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 44><ACT 5><SCENE 2><88%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<89%>
	Who bare my letter then to Romeo?
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 45><ACT 5><SCENE 2><89%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<89%>
	Unhappy fortune! by my brotherhood,
	The letter was not nice, but full of charge
	Of dear import; and the neglecting it
	May do much danger. Friar John, go hence;
	Get me an iron crow, and bring it straight
	Unto my cell.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 46><ACT 5><SCENE 2><89%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<89%>
	Now must I to the monument alone;
	Within these three hours will fair Juliet wake:
	She will beshrew me much that Romeo
	Hath had no notice of these accidents;
	But I will write again to Mantus,
	And keep her at my cell till Romeo come:
	Poor living corse, clos'd in a dead man's tomb!
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 47><ACT 5><SCENE 3><93%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<93%>
	Saint Francis be my speed! how oft to-night
	Have my old feet stumbled at graves! Who's there?
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 48><ACT 5><SCENE 3><93%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<94%>
	Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend,
	What torch is yond, that vainly lends his light
	To grubs and eyeless skulls? as I discern,
	It burneth in the Capel's monument.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 49><ACT 5><SCENE 3><93%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<94%>
	Who is it?
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 50><ACT 5><SCENE 3><93%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<94%>
	How long hath he been there?
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 51><ACT 5><SCENE 3><93%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<94%>
	Go with me to the vault.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 52><ACT 5><SCENE 3><94%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<94%>
	Stay then, I'll go alone. Fear comes upon me;
	O! much I fear some ill unlucky thing.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 53><ACT 5><SCENE 3><94%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<94%>
<STAGE DIR>
<Advances.>
</STAGE DIR> Romeo!
	Alack, alack! what blood is this which stains
	The stony entrance of this sepulchre?
	What mean these masterless and gory swords
	To lie discolour'd by this place of peace?
<STAGE DIR>
<Enter the tomb.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Romeo! O, pale! Who else? what! Paris too?
	And steep'd in blood? Ah! what an unkind hour
	Is guilty of this lamentable chance.
	The lady stirs.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 54><ACT 5><SCENE 3><94%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<95%>
	I hear some noise. Lady, come from that nest
	Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep:
	A greater power than we can contradict
	Hath thwarted our intents: come, come away.
	Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead;
	And Paris too: come, I'll dispose of thee
	Among a sisterhood of holy nuns.
	Stay not to question, for the watch is coming;
	Come, go, good Juliet.—<STAGE DIR>
<Noise again.>
</STAGE DIR> I dare no longer stay.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 55><ACT 5><SCENE 3><97%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<97%>
	I am the greatest, able to do least,
	Yet most suspected, as the time and place
	Doth make against me, of this direful murder;
	And here I stand, both to impeach and purge
	Myself condemned and myself excus'd.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

<SPEECH 56><ACT 5><SCENE 3><97%>
<FRIAR LAURENCE>	<98%>
	I will be brief, for my short date of breath
	Is not so long as is a tedious tale.
	Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet;
	And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife:
	I married them; and their stolen marriage-day
	Was Tybalt's doomsday, whose untimely death
	Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from this city;
	For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pin'd.
	You, to remove that siege of grief from her,
	Betroth'd, and would have married her perforce,
	To County Paris: then comes she to me,
	And, with wild looks bid me devise some mean
	To rid her from this second marriage,
	Or in my cell there would she kill herself.
	Then gave I her,—so tutor'd by my art,—
	A sleeping potion; which so took effect
	As I intended, for it wrought on her
	The form of death: meantime I writ to Romeo
	That he should hither come as this dire night,
	To help to take her from her borrow'd grave,
	Being the time the potion's force should cease.
	But he which bore my letter, Friar John,
	Was stay'd by accident, and yesternight
	Return'd my letter back. Then, all alone,
	At the prefixed hour of her waking,
	Came I to take her from her kindred's vault,
	Meaning to keep her closely at my cell,
	Till I conveniently could send to Romeo:
	But, when I came,—some minute ere the time
	Of her awakening,—here untimely lay
	The noble Paris and true Romeo dead.
	She wakes; and I entreated her come forth,
	And bear this work of heaven with patience;
	But then a noise did scare me from the tomb,
	And she, too desperate, would not go with me,
	But, as it seems, did violence on herself.
	All this I know; and to the marriage
	Her nurse is privy: and, if aught in this
	Miscarried by my fault, let my old life
	Be sacrific'd, some hour before his time,
	Unto the rigour of severest law.
</FRIAR LAURENCE>

