Mer. This cannot anger him: 'twould anger him
To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle

Of some strange nature, letting it there stand
Till she had laid it, and conjur'd it down;
That were some spite: my invocation

Is fair and honest, and, in his mistress' name,
I conjure only but to raise up him.

Ben. Come, he hath hid himself among those trees,
To be conforted with the humorous night:

Blind is his love, and beft befits the dark.

Mer. If 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,
As 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, fhall we go?

Ben.

Go, then; for 'tis in vain

To feek him here, that means not to be found. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Capulet's Garden.

Enter ROMEO.

Rom. He jefts at scars, that never felt a wound.

[JULIET appears above, at a window. But, foft! what light through yonder window breaks! It is the east, and Juliet is the fun !

Arife, fair fun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already fick and pale with grief,

That thou her maid art far more fair than fhe:

Be not her maid, fince fhe is envious;

Her veftal livery is but fick and green,

And

And none but fools do wear it; caft it off.-
It is my lady; O, it is my love :

O, that she knew fhe were!—

She speaks, yet fhe fays nothing; What of that?
Her eye difcourfes, I will anfwer it.—

I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks :
Two of the faireft ftars in all the heaven,
Having fome business, do entreat 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 daylight doth a lamp; her eye in heaven
Would through the airy region stream so 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!

She fpeaks:

O, fpeak again, bright angel! for thou art
As glorious to this night, 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 clouds,
And fails upon the bofom 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 fworn my love,

And I'll no longer be a Capulet.

Rom. Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this? [Afide, 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

Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part

Belonging to a man. O, be fome other name!
What's in a name? that which we call a rofe,
By any other name would 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, 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 stumbleft on my counfel?

Rom.

By a name

I know not how to tell thee who I am:

My name, dear faint, 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 drunk a hundred words 'Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the found; Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?

Rom. Neither, fair faint, if either thee diflike. 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 kinfinen find thee here.

Rom. With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls; For ftony limits cannot hold love out :

And what love can do, that dares love attempt;
Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me.

Jul. If they do fee thee, they will murder thee.
Rom. Alack! there lies more peril in thine eye,

Than

Than twenty of their fwords; look thou but fweet,
And I am proof against their enmity.

Jul. I would not for the world, they faw thee here.
Rom. I have night's cloak to hide me from their fight;
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 whofe direction found'ft thou out this place? Rom. By love, who first did prompt me to inquire; He lent me counfel, and I lent him eyes.

I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far

As that vaft fhore wafh'd with the furtheft sea,

I would adventure for fuch merchandise.

Jul. Thou know'ft, the mask of night is on my face; Elfe would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek, For that which thou haft heard me fpeak to-night. Fain would I dwell on form, fain fain deny What I have spoke; But farewell compliment! Doft thou love me? I know, thou wilt fay-Ay; And I will take thy word: yet, if thou fwear'ft, Thou may'ft prove falfe; at lovers' perjuries, They fay, Jove laughs. O, gentle Romeo, If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully: Or if thou think' I am too quickly won, I'll frown, and be perverfe, and fay thee nay, So thou wilt woo; but, elfe, not for the world. In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond; And therefore thou may't 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 over-heard'ft, ere I was ware, My true love's paffion: therefore pardon me

And