Updated: 6/7/2020
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Storyboard Text

  • The gray-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night,Checkering the eastern clouds with streaks of light,And fleckled darkness like a drunkard reels,From forth day's path and Titan's fiery wheels
  • Within the infant rind of this small flowerPoison hath residence and medicine power
  • Benedicite.What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?Young son, it argues a distempered headSo soon to bid thy morrow to thy bed.
  • Good morrow, father
  • Holy Saint Francis, what a change is here!Is Rosaline, whom thou didst love so dearSo soon forsaken
  • Then plainly know my heart's dear love is setOn the fair daughter of rich CapuletAs mine on hers, so hers is set on mine.
  • I pray thee, chide not.Her I love nowDoth grace for grace and love for love allow.The other did not so.
  • Not in a grave,To lay one in, another out to have
  • Wisely and slow. They stumble that run fast.
  • Oh, let us hence. I stand on sudden haste.
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