Rom.
He jests at scars, that never felt a wound. Enter Juliet, above.
But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun:—
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief,
That thou her maid art far more fair than she:
Be not her maid, since she is envious;
Her vestal livery is but sick and ^note green,
And none but fools do wear it, cast it off.—
It is my lady; o, it is my love:
O, that she knew she were!
She speaks, yet she says nothing; What of that?
Her eye discourses, I will answer it.
I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks:
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
Having some business, do entreat ^note her eyes
To twinkle in their spheres 'till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?

The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,
As day-light doth a lamp; her eye in heaven
Would through the airy region stream so bright,
That birds would sing, and think it were not night.
See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand:
O, that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek!

Jul.
Ay me!

Rom.
She speaks:—
O, speak again, bright angel; for thou art
As glorious to this sight ^note, being o'er my head,
As is a winged messenger of heaven
Unto the white-upturned wond'ring eyes
Of mortals, that fall back to gaze on him,
When he bestrides the lazy-pacing ^note clouds,
And sails upon the bosom of the air.

Jul.
O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?
Deny thy father, and refuse thy name:
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I'll no longer be a Capulet.

Rom.
Shall I hear ^note more, or shall I speak at this ^note?

Jul.
'Tis but thy name, that is my enemy;
Thou art not14Q1396 thyself so, though a ^note Mountague.
What's Mountague? it is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part ^note:
What's in a name ^note? that which we call a rose,
By any other name would ^note smell as sweet;
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes,
Without that title:—Romeo, doff thy name;
And for that name ^note, which is no part of thee,
Take all myself.

Rom.
I take thee at thy word: [raising his Voice, and showing himself.
Call me but love, and I'll be new baptiz'd;
Henceforth I never will be Romeo.

Jul.
What man art thou, that, thus bescreen'd in night; ^note
So stumbl'st on my counsel?

Rom.
By a name
I know not how to tell thee who I am:
My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,
Because it is an enemy to thee;
Had I it written, I would tear the word.

Jul.
My ears have not yet ^note drunk a hundred words
Of that ^note tongue's uttering ^note, yet I know the sound;
Art thou not Romeo, and a Mountague?

Rom,
Neither, fair saint, if ^note either thee dislike ^note.

Jul.
How cam'st thou hither, tell me? and wherefore?
The orchard walls are high, and hard to climb;
And the place death, considering who thou art,
If any of my kinsmen find thee here.

Rom.
With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls;
For stony limits cannot hold love out:
And what love can do, that dares love attempt;
Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to ^note me.

Jul.
If they do see thee, they will murther thee.

Rom.
Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye,
Than twenty of their swords; look thou but sweet,
And I am proof against their enmity.

Jul.
I would not for the world, they saw thee here.

Rom.
I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight ^note;
And, but thou love me, let them find me here;
My life were better ended by their hate,
Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.

Jul.
By whose direction found'st thou out this place?

Rom.
By love, who first ^note did prompt me to enquire;
He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes.
I am no pilot ^note; yet, wert thou as far
As that vast shore wash'd ^note with the farthest sea,
I would ^note adventure for such merchandise.

Jul.
Thou know'st, the mask of night is on my face;
Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek,
For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night.
Fain would I dwell on form, fain fain deny
What I have spoke; But farewel compliment ^note!
Dost thou love me? I ^note know, thou wilt say—Ay;
And I will take thy word: yet, if thou swear'st,
Thou may'st prove false; at lovers' perjuries,
They say, Jove laughs. ^note O gentle Romeo,
If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully:
Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won,
I'll frown, and be perverse, and say thee nay,
So thou wilt woo; but, else, not for the world.
In truth, fair Mountague, I am too fond;
And therefore thou may'st think my 'haviour ^note light:
But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true
Than those that have more ^note cunning ^note to be strange.
I should have been more strange, I must confess,
But that thou over-hear'dst, e'er I ^note was ware,
My true love's ^note passion: therefore pardon me;
And not impute this yielding to light love,
Which the dark night hath so discovered.

Rom.
Lady, by yonder blessed ^note moon I vow, ^note
That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops,—

Jul.
O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon
That monthly changes in her circl'd ^note orb,

Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.

Rom.
What shall I swear by?

Jul.
Do not swear at all;
Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self,
Which is the ^note god of my idolatry,
And I'll believe thee.

Rom.
If my heart's dear love—

Jul.
Well, do not swear; although I joy in thee,
I have no joy of this contráct to-night:
It is too rash, too unadvis'd, too sudden ^note;
Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be,
Ere one can say—It lightens. Sweet, good night!
This bud of love, by summer's rip'ning breath,
May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.
Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest
Come to thy heart, as that within my breast!

Rom.
O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfy'd?

Jul.
What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?

Rom.
The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine ^note.

Jul.
I gave thee mine before thou didst request it:
And yet I would it were to give again.

Rom.
Would'st thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love?

Jul.
But to be frank, and give it thee again.
And yet I wish but for the thing I have:
My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
The more I have, for both are infinite.
I hear some noise within; Dear love, adieu!— [Nurse calls within.
Anon, good nurse:—Sweet Mountague, be true.
Stay but a little, I will come again. [Exit.

Rom.
O blessed blessed night! I am afeard,

Being in night, all this is but a dream,
Too flattering-sweet to be substantial. Re-enter Juliet, above.

Jul.
Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed.
If that thy bent of love be honourable,
Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow,
By one that I'll procure to come to thee,
Where, and what time, thou wilt perform the rite ^note,
And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay,
And follow thee my lord ^note throughout the world:

Nur. [within.]
Madam!

Jul.
I come anon:—But if thou mean'st not well,
I do beseech thee,—

Nur. [within.]
Madam!

Jul.
By and by I come:—
To cease thy suit, and ^note leave me to my grief:
To-morrow will I send.

Rom.
So thrive my soul,—

Jul.
A thousand times good night! [Exit.

Rom.
A thousand times the worse, to want thy light ^note.—
Love goes toward love, as school-boys from their books; [retires slowly.
But love from love, towards school with heavy looks. Enter Juliet again, above.

Jul.
Hist, Romeo, hist!—O, for a faulc'ner's voice,
To lure this tassel-gentle back again!
Bondage is hoarse, and may not ^note speak aloud;
Else would I tear the cave where echo lies,
And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine ^note
With repetition of my Romeo.

Rom.
It is my soul, that ^note calls upon my name: [returns to the Window.

How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night!
Like softest musick to attending ears.

Jul.
Romeo!

Rom.
My sweet? ^note

Jul.
At ^note what o'clock to-morrow
Shall I send to thee?

Rom.
At the ^note hour of nine.

Jul.
I will not fail; 'tis twenty years ^note 'till then.
I have forgot why I did call thee back.

Rom.
Let me stand ^note here 'till thou remember it.

Jul.
I shall forget still, to have thee stand ^{note note} there,
Rememb'ring how I love thy company.

Rom.
And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget,
Forgetting any other home ^note but this.

Jul.
'Tis almost morning, I would have thee gone;
And yet no farther ^note than a wanton's bird;
Who lets ^note it hop a little from her hand ^note,
Like a ^note poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,
And with a silk ^note thread plucks it back ^note again,
So loving ^note-jealous of his liberty.

Rom.
I would, I were thy bird.

Jul.
Sweet, so would I;
Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.
Good night, good night! parting is such ^note sweet sorrow,
That I shall say—good night, 'till it be morrow. [Exit.

Rom.
Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast!—
'Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest!
Hence will I to my ghostly father's cell;
His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell. [Exit.

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