JUL. Go, ask his name: if he be married, My grave is like to be my wedding bed.

Nurse. His name is Romeo, and a Montague; The only son of your great enemy.

Jul. My only love sprung from my only hate! Too early seen unknown, and known too late! Prodigious birth of love it is to me, That I must love a loathed enemy. Nurse. What's this? what's this? Jul.

A rhyme I learn'd even now Of o e I d nced w thal. [

ne cal s within Juliet.

Nurse.

Anon, anon!

Come, let's away; the strangers all are gone.

[Exeunt.

ACT THE SECOND.

PROLOGUE.

Enter Chorus.

Chor. Now old desire doth in his death-bed lie,
And young affection gapes to be his heir;
That fair for which love groan'd for and would die,
With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair.
Now Romeo is beloved and loves again.

Alike bewitched by the charm of looks,
But to his foe supposed he must complain,

And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks: Being held a foe, he may not have access

To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear; And she as much in love, her means much less To meet her new-beloved any where:

But passion lends them power, time means, to meet, Tempering extremities with extreme sweet. [Exit.

SCENE I.

A lane by the wall of Capulet's orchard.
Enter Romeo.

Rom. Can I go

forward when my heart is here?

Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out. [He climbs the wall, and leaps down within it.

Enter Benvolio and Mercutio.

Ben. Romeo! my cousin Romeo!

.Mer.

He is wise;

And, on my life, hath stol'n him home to bed.
Ben. He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard
Call, good Mercutio.

[wall:

MER. Nay, I'll conjure too. Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover! Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh: Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied; Cry but Ay me! pronounce but love and dove; Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word, One nick-name for her purblind son and heir, Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim, When King Cophetua loved 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 spirit in his mistress' circle

Of some strange nature, letting it there stand
Till she had laid it and conjured 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 these trees, To be consorted with the humorous night: Blind is his love and best befits the dark.

Mer. If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark. Now will he sit under a medlar tree,

And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit
As maids call medlars, when they laugh alone.
O, Romeo, that she were, O, that she were
An open et cætera, thou a poperin pear!
Romeo, good night: I'll to my truckle-bed;
This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep:

Come, shall we go?

Ben.

Go, then; for 'tis in vain

To seek him here that means not to be found.

[Exeu t.

CENE II.

Capulet's orchard.

Enter Romeo.

Rom. He jests at scars that never felt a wound. [Juliet appears above at a window.

D

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 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 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 eyes 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.

ROM.

Ay me!

She speaks:

O, speak 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 wondering eyes
Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him
When he bestrides the lazy-pacing 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'11 no longer be a Capulet.

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

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 man. 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
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'11 be new baptized;

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

I know not how to tell thee who I am: