Rom. Thou chid'st me oft for louing Rosaline
Fri. For doting, not for louing pupill mine
Rom. And bad'st me bury Loue
Fri. Not in a graue,
To lay one in, another out to haue
Rom. I pray thee chide me not, her I Loue now
Doth grace for grace, and Loue for Loue allow:
The other did not so
Fri. O she knew well,
Thy Loue did read by rote, that could not spell:
But come young wauerer, come goe with me,
In one respect, Ile thy assistant be:
For this alliance may so happy proue,
To turne your houshould rancor to pure Loue
Rom. O let vs hence, I stand on sudden hast
Fri. Wisely and slow, they stumble that run fast.
Exeunt.
Enter Benuolio and Mercutio.