ROMEO.
I pray thee chide me not, her I love now
Doth grace for grace and love for love allow.
The other did not so.
FRIAR LAWRENCE.
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.
ROMEO.
O let us hence; I stand on sudden haste.
FRIAR LAWRENCE.
Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE IV. A Street.
Enter Benvolio and Mercutio.
MERCUTIO.
Where the devil should this Romeo be? Came he not home tonight?
BENVOLIO.
Not to his father’s; I spoke with his man.
MERCUTIO.
Why, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline, torments him so that he will sure run mad.