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(Young Abraham Cupid, he that shot so true,
When King Cophetua lov'd the beggar-maid-)
He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not,
The ape is dead, and I must conjure him.
I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes,
By her high forehead, and her scarlet lip,
By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh,
And the demesnes that there adjacent lie,
That in thy likeness thou appear to us.

Ben. An'if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him.

Mer. This cannot anger him : 'twould anger him, To raise a lpirit in his mistress' circle, Of some strange nature, letting it there stand Till she had laid it, and conjur d it down ; Thar were fome spight. My invocation is Honest and fair, and, in his mistress' name, I conjure only but to raise up bin.

Ben. Coine, he hath hid himself among these trees, To be conforled with the hum'rous night. Blind is his love, and beit befits the dark

Mer It love be blind, love cannot hit the mark, Now will he fit under a medlar tree, And with his mistress were that kind of fruit Which maids call medlars, when they laugh alone. Romeo, good night ; I'll to my truckle-bed, This field-bed is too cold for me to fleep. Come, shall we go!

Ben. Go then, for 'tis in vain To leek him here that means not to be found. [Exeunt. SCENE II. Changes to Capulet's garden

Enter Romeo. Rom. He jests at scars that never felt a woundBut, soft! what light thro' yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun!

[Juliet appears above, at a window. Arise, fair fun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already fick and pale with grief, That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she.

Tliis probably was a name stupidly given to Cupid in the old ballad here sefcried to of King Cophctua and the beggar-maid.

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Be got her maid, since she is envious:
Her veltal livery is but sick and green,
And none but fools do wear it; calt it off-
She speaks, yet the fays nothing; what of that?
Her
eye

discourses ; I will answer it-
I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks.
Two of the faireft.Itars of all the heav'n,
Having some business, do intreat 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 thote stars,
As day-light doth a lamp; her eyes in heav'n
Would through the airy region Itream fo bright,
That birds would fing, and think it were not night.
See how the leans her cheek upon her hand !
o that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek!

Jul. Ah me!

Rom. She speaks.
Oh, speak again, bright angel! for thou art
As glorious to this fight being o'er my head,
As is a winged messenger from heav'n,
Unto the white-upturned, wondring eyes
Of mortals, that fall back to gaze on him,
When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds,
And fails upon

the bosom of the air.
Jul, o Romeo, Romeo-wherefore art thou Romeo !
Deny thy father, and refule thy name :
Or, if thou wilt not, be but fworn my love,
And I'll no longer be a Capulet.
Rom. Shall I bear more, or shall I speak at this ?

[Aids.
Jul. 'Tis but thy name that is my enemy.
«Thou art thyself, though not a Montague,
What's Montague ? it is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face--nor any other part.
What's in a pame? that which we call a rofe,
By any other name would smell as sweet,
So Romeo would, were he not R eo callid,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes,
Without that title ; Romeo, quit thy name ;
And for thy name, which is no part of thee,

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Take all myself.

Rom. I take thee at thy word :
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 So Itumblest on my counsel !

[night, 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.

Juil. My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words Of that tongue's uttering, yet I know the sound. Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague ?

Rom. Neither, fair saint, if either thee dilike.

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

Rom. With love's light wings did I o'erperch these For ftony limits cannot hold love out ;

Twalls, Arid what love can do, ibat dares love attempt: Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me.

Jul. If they do lee 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 herc. Rom. I have night's cloak to hide me from their

eyes, And but thou love me, let them find me here; My lite ,were better ended by their hate, Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.

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

Kem. By love, that first did prompt me to inquire ; He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes. I am ro pilot, yet wert thou as far As that vaft Thore wash'd with the farthest fea, I would adventure for such merchandise.

Jui. Thou know'st the inaik of night is on my face, Elle 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 !
Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt fay Ay;
And I will take thy word-yet if thou swear it,
Thou may'st prove falle ; at lovers' perjuries,
They say, Jove laughs. Oh, gentle Romeo,
If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully :
Or if you think I am too quickly won,
il frown and be perverse, and say thee Nay,
So thou wilt wooe : but, else, not for the world.
In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond;
And therefore thou may'st think my 'haviour light.
But trust me, Gentleman, I'll prove more true
Than those that have more cunning to be strange.
I should have been more ftrange, I must confess,
But that thou overheard'it, ere I was ’ware,
My true love's paffion; therefore pardon me,
And not impute this yielding to light love,
Which the dark night hath lo discovered,

Rom. Ladý, by yonder blessed moon I vow,
That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops-

Jul. O swear not by the moon, th’inconstant moon, That monthly changes in her circled orb; Lelt 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 fell,
Which is the god of my idolatry,
And I'll believe thee.

Rom. If my true heart's love-
Jul. Well, do not swear- although I joy in thee,
I have no joy of this contract to-night.
It is too rash, too unadvis'd, too ludden,
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 ripening breath
Maỹ prove a beauteous flower, when next we meer,
Good night, good night as sweet repose and rest
Come to thy heart, as that within my breast !

Rom. (), wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied ?
Jul. What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?
Rom. Th' exchange of thy love's faithful vow for

mine, VOL. VIII.

2

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 Montague, be true: Stay but a little, I will come again.

[Exit. Rom. O blessed, blessed night! I am afraid, 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 inIf that thy bent of love be honourable, [deed. Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow, Ry one that I'll procure to come to thee, Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite; And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay, And follow thee, my love, throughout the world.

[Within, Madam. I come, anon but if thou mean'lt not well, I do befeech thee-[Within, Madam.] By and by,

I come
To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief.
To morrow will I fend.

Rom. So thrive my soul,
Ful. A thousand times good night.

[Exit. Rom. A thousand times the worfe to want thy light, Love goes tow'rd love, as (chool-boys from their books; But love from love, tow'rds school with heavy looks.

Enter Juliet again.
Jul. Hift? Romeo, hist! O for a falkner's voice,
To lure this taffel gentle back again-
Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud ;
Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies,
And make ber airy tongue more hoarse than mine,

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