See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! That I might touch that cheek! Jul. Rom. Ah me! She speaks:- Unto the white up-turned wond'ring eyes Jul. O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father, and refuse thy name : Rom. Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this? [Aside. 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 Belonging to a inan. O, be some other name! What's in a name? that which we call a rose, By any other name would smell as sweet; So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, Retain that dear perfection which he owes,1 Without that title:-Romeo, doff2 thy name; And for that name, which is no part of thee, 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 night, So stumblest on my counsel? Rom. By a name (1) Owns, possesses.. (2) Do off. I know not how to tell thee who I am: Had I it written, I would tear the word. Jul. My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound; Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague? Rom. Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike. 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, any of my kinsmen find thee here. If 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, Jul. If they do see thee, they will murder 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; And, but thou love me,2 let them find me here: Rom. By love, who first did prompt me to inquire; As that vast shore wash'd with the furthest sea, Jul. Thou know'st, the mask of night is on my face; Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek, (1) Hindrance. (2) Unless thou love me. For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night. Rom. Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear, That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops,Jul. O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, That monthly changes in her circled orb, Jul. Do not swear at all; Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, 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 contract to-night: It is too rash, too unadvis'd, too sudden; (1) Behaviour. (2) Shy. 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 unsatisfied? Jul. What satisfaction canst thou have to-night? Rom. The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine. 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. [Nurse calls within. I hear some noise within; Dear love, adieu! Anon, good nurse!-Sweet Montague, 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 bent2 of love be honourable, Jul. I come, anon:-But if thou mean'st not well, I do beseech thee, Nurse. [Within.] Madam. (1) Free. (2) Inclination. Jul. By and by, I come: Rom. [Exit. Rom. A thousand times the worse, to want thy light. Love goes toward love, as school-boys from their books; But love from love, toward school with heavy looks. [Retiring slowly. Re-enter Juliet, above. Jul. Hist! Romeo, hist!-O, for a falconer's voice, To lure this tassel-gentle1 back again! Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud; Rom. It is my soul, that calls upon my name: How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, Like softest music to attending ears! Jul. Romeo! Rom. Jul. My sweet! Shall I send to thee? Rom. At what o'clock to-morrow At the hour of nine. Jul. I will not fail; 'tis twenty years till then. I have forgot why I did call thee back. Rom. Let me stand here till thou remember it.' Jul. I shall forget, to have thee still stand there, Rememb'ring how I love thy company. Rom. And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget, Forgetting any other home but this. Jul. 'Tis almost morning, I would have thee gone: And yet no further than a wanton's bird; (1) The male of the goshawk. |