Philip Weller caricature
Philip and Weller hugging

Welcome to my web site, now under development for more than twenty years.   
-- Philip Weller, November 13, 1941 - February 1, 2021
Dr. Weller, an Eastern Washington University professor of English and Shakespearean scholar for more than 50 years.



Romeus and Juliet: Lines 1481-1526



  Whilst to this skilful lore he lent his list'ning ears,
His sighs are stopped and stoppéd are the conduits of his tears.
As blackest clouds are chased by winter's nimble wind,
So have his reasons chaséd care out of his careful mind.
As of a morning foul ensues an evening fair,
So banished hope returneth home to banish his despair.
Now is affection's veil removed from his eyes,
He seeth the path that he must walk, and reason makes him wise.
For very shame the blood doth flash in both his cheeks,
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He thanks the father for his lore, and farther aid he seeks.
He saith, that skill-less youth for counsel is unfit,
And anger oft with hastiness are joined to want of wit;
But sound advice abounds in heads with hoarish hairs,
For wisdom is by practice won, and perfect made by years.
But aye from this time forth his ready bending will
Shall be in awe and governéd by Friar Laurence' skill.
The governor is now right careful of his charge,
To whom he doth wisely discourse of his affairs at large.
He tells him how he shall depart the town unknown,
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Both mindful of his friend's safety, and careful of his own;
How he shall guide himself, how he shall seek to win
The friendship of the better sort, how warely to creep in
The favour of the Mantuan prince, and how he may
Appease the wrath of Escalus, and wipe the fault away;
The choler of his foes by gentle means t' assuage,
Or else by force and practices to bridle quite their rage:
And last he chargeth him at his appointed hour
To go with manly, merry cheer unto his lady's bower,
And there with wholesome words to salve her sorrow's smart,
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And to revive, if need require, her faint and dying heart.
  The old man's words have filled with joy our Romeus' breast,
And eke the old wife's talk hath set our Juliet's heart at rest.
Whereto may I compare, O lovers, this your day?
Like days the painful mariners are wonted to assay;
For, beat with tempest great, when they at length espy
Some little beam of Phoebus' light, that pierceth through the sky,
To clear the shadowed earth by clearness of his face,
They hope that dreadless they shall run the remnant of their race;
Yea, they assure themself, and quite behind their back
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They cast all doubt, and thank the gods for scaping of the wrack;
But straight the boisterous winds with greater fury blow,
And overboard the broken mast the stormy blasts do throw;
The heavens large are clad with clouds as dark as hell,
And twice as high the striving waves begin to roar and swell;
With greater dangers dread the men are vexéd more,
In greater peril of their life than they had been before.