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 1701-1780



  Thus these two lovers pass away the weary night,
In pain and plaint, not, as they wont, in pleasure and delight.
But now, somewhat too soon, in farthest east arose
Fair Lucifer, the golden star that lady Venus chose;
Whose course appointed is with speedy race to run,
A messenger of dawning day and of the rising sun.
Then fresh Aurora with her pale and silver glade
Did clear the skies, and from the earth had chaséd ugly shade.
When thou ne lookest wide, ne closely dost thou wink
1710
When Phoebus from our hemisphere in western wave doth sink,
What colour then the heavens do show unto thine eyes,
The same, or like, saw Romeus in farthest eastern skies.
As yet he saw no day, ne could he call it night
With equal force decreasing dark fought with increasing light.
Then Romeus in arms his lady 'gan to fold,
With friendly kiss, and ruthfully she 'gan her knight behold.
With solemn oath they both their sorrowful leave do take;
They swear no stormy troubles shall their steady friendship shake.
Then careful Romeus again to cell returns,
1720
And in her chamber secretly our joyless Juliet mourns.
Now hugy clouds of care, of sorrow, and of dread,
The clearness of their gladsome hearts hath wholly overspread.
When golden-crested Phoebus boasteth him in sky,
And under earth, to 'scape revenge, his deadly foe doth fly
Then hath these lovers' day an end, their night begun,
For each of them to other is as to the world the sun,
The dawning they shall see, ne summer any more,
But blackfaced night with winter rough, ah, beaten over sore.
  The weary watch discharged did hie them home to sleep,
1730
The warders and the scouts were charged their place and course to keep,
And Verone gates awide the porters had set open,
When Romeus had of his affairs with Friar Laurence spoken.
Warely he walked forth, unknown of friend or foe,
Clad like a merchant venturer, from top even to the toe.
He spurred apace, and came, withouten stop or stay,
To Mantua gates, where lighted down, he sent his man away
With words of comfort to his old afflicted sire;
And straight, in mind to sojourn there, a lodging doth he hire,
And with the nobler sort he doth himself acquaint,
1740
And of his open wrong received the duke doth hear his plaint.
He practiseth by friends for pardon of exile;
The whilst he seeketh every way his sorrows to beguile.
But who forgets the coal that burneth in his breast?
Alas, his cares deny his heart the sweet desiréd rest;
No time finds he of mirth, he finds no place of joy,
But everything occasion gives of sorrow and annoy.
For when in turning skies the heaven's lamps are light,
And from the other hemisphere fair Phoebus chaseth night,
When every man and beast hath rest from painful toil,
1750
Then in the breast of Romeus his passions 'gin to boil.
Then doth he wet with tears the couch whereon he lies,
And then his sighs the chamber fill, and out aloud he cries
Against the restless stars in rolling skies that range,
Against the fatal sisters three, and Fortune full of change.
Each night a thousand times he calleth for the day,
He thinketh Titan's restless steeds of restiness do stay;
Or that at length they have some baiting place found out,
Or, guided ill, have lost their way and wandered far about.
While thus in idle thoughts the weary time he spendeth,
1760
The night hath end, but not with night the plaint of night he endeth.
Is he accompanied? Is he in place alone?
In company he wails his harm, apart he maketh moan:
For if his feres rejoice, what cause hath he to joy,
That wanteth still his chief delight, while they their loves enjoy?
But if with heavy cheer they show their inward grief,
He waileth most his wretchedness that is of wretches chief.
When he doth hear abroad the praise of ladies blown,
Within his thought he scorneth them, and doth prefer his own.
When pleasant songs he hears, while others do rejoice,
1770
The melody of music doth stir up his mourning voice.
But if in secret place he walk somewhere alone,
The place itself and secretness redoubleth all his moan.
Then speaks he to the beasts, to feathered fowls and trees,
Unto the earth, the clouds, and to whatso beside he sees.
To them he shew'th his smart, as though they reason had.
Each thing may cause his heaviness, but nought may make him glad.
And, weary of the day, again he calleth night,
The sun he curseth, and the hour when first his eyes saw light.
And as the night and day their course do interchange,
1780
So doth our Romeus' nightly cares for cares of day exchange.