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Rom.

S CE NE II.

H

AGARDEN.

Enter Romeo.

E jefts at fcars that never felt a wound-
But foft, what light thro' yonder window
breaks ?

It is the east, and Juliet is the fun!

[Juliet appears above at a window.

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

I am too bold- Oh were those eyes in heav'n,
They'd through the airy region stream so bright,
That birds would fing and think it were the morn:
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 fpeaks, she speaks!

Oh fpeak again, bright angel, for thou art
As glorious to this fight, being o'er my head,
As is a winged messenger from heav'n,
To the upturned wondring eyes of mortals
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.

[Afide.

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

Jul. 'Tis but thy name that is my enemy;
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

Retain that dear perfection which he owes,
Without that title; Romeo, quit 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, I will forfwear my name,
And never more be Romeo.

Jul. What man art thou, that thus bescreen'd in night So ftumbleft on my counfel?

Rom. 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.

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

Rom. Neither, fair faint, if either thee difpleafe. ful. How cam'ft thou hither, tell me, and for what? The orchard-walls are high, and hard to climb, And the place death, confidering who thou art, kinfmen find thee here.

If

any of n
f my

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 stop to me.

Jul. If they do fee thee, they will murder thee.
Rom. Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye,
Than twenty of their fwords; look thou but fweet,
And I am proof againft their enmity.

Jul. I would not for the world they faw thee here,
By whofe direction found'st thou out this place?
Rom. By love that firft did prompt me to enquire,
He lent me counfel, and I lent him eyes:

I am no pilot, yet wert thou as far

As that vaft fhore, wash'd with the fartheft fea,
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 farewel compliment:
Doft thou love me? I know thou wilt say, ay,

And

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And I will take thy word yet if thou fwear'ft,
Thou may'ft prove falfe; at lovers perjuries
They fay Jove laughs. Oh gentle Romeo,
If thou doft 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 Mountague, I am too fond;
And therefore thou may'ft think my 'haviour light:
But truft me, gentleman, I'll prove more true,
Than those that have more cunning to be ftrange.
I should have been more strange, I must confefs,
But that thou over-heard'st, 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 so discovered.

Rom. Lady, by yonder blessed moon I vowJul. Ofwear not by the moon, th' inconftant moon, That monthly changes in her circled orb ;

Left that thy love prove likewise variable.

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Rom. What fhall I swear by ?

Jul. Do not fwear at all;

Or if thou wilt, fwear by thy gracious felf,

Which is the god of my idolatry,

And I'll belive thee.

Rom. If my true heart's love

Jul. Well, do not fwear-although I joy in thee, I have no joy of this contract to night;

It is too rash, too unadvis'd, too fudden,

Too like the lightning which doth cease to be
Ere one can fay, it lightensfweet, good night.
This bud of love by fummer's ripening breath
May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet :
Good night, good night-as fweet repofe and rest
Come to thy heart, as that within my breast.

Rom. O wilt thou leave me fo unfatisfied? ful. What fatisfaction canst thou have to-night? Rom. Th' 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't thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love?

Jul.

Jul. But to be frank, and give it thee again.
My bounty is as boundless as the fea,

My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
The more I have, for both are infinite.
I hear fome noise within; dear love, adieu.

[Nurfe calls within.

Anon, good Nurse-
Stay but a little, I will come again.
Rom. O bleffed, bleffed night. I am afraid
Being in night, all this is but a dream !
Too flattering fweet to be fubftantial.

Sweet Mountague, be true;

Re-enter Juliet above.

[Exit.

ful. Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed: If that thy bent of love be honourable,

Thy purpose, marriage, fend me word to morrow
By 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.

I come, anon-
I do beseech thee-

come

[Within: Madam. but if thou mean'st not well, -[Within: Madam.] By and by I

To cease thy fuit, and leave me to my grief.

To morrow will I fend.

Rom. So thrive my foul.

ful. A thousand times good night.

[Exit.

Rom. A thousand times the worse to want thy light. Enter Juliet again.

Jul. Hift! Romeo, hift! O for a falkner's voice, To lure his Taffel gentle back again

Bondage is hoarfe and may not speak aloud,

Elfe would I tear the cave where Echo lies,
And make her angry tongue more hoarfe than mine
With repetition of my Romeo.

Rom. It is my love that calls upon my name.
How filver fweet found lovers tongues by night,
Like fofteft mufick to attending ears!

Jul. Romeo!

Rom. My fweet!

ful. At what o'clock to-morrow Shall I fend to thee?

Rom.

Rom. By the hour of nine.

ful. I will not fail, 'tis twenty years 'till then,I have forgot why I did call thee back

Rom. Let me ftand here 'till thou remember it. Jul. I fhall forget to have thee ftill ftand there, Remembring how I love thy Company.

Rom. And I'H ftay here, to have thee ftill forget, Forgetting any other home but this.

Jul. 'Tis almoft morning. I would have thee gone, And yet no further than a Wanton's bird,

That lets it hop a little from her hand,

And with a filk thread plucks it back again,
So loving jealous of his liberty.

Rom. I would I were thy bird.

Jul. Sweet, fo would I,

Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.

Good night, good night. Parting is such sweet forrow, That I fhall fay good night 'till it be morrow.

[Exit. Rom. Sleep dwell upon thine Eyes, peace in thy breaft; Would I were fleep and peace, fo fweet to reft! Hence will I to my ghoftly father's cell,

His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell.

SCENE III

A Monaftery.

[Exit.

Enter Friar Lawrence with a basket.
HE gray-ey'd morn fmiles on the frowning

Fri. T
THE night,

Check'ring the eastern clouds with ftreaks of light.
Now ere the fun advance his burning eye,

The day to chear, and night's dank dew to dry,

I must fill up this ofier cage of ours

With baleful weeds, and precious juiced flowers.
O mickle is the powerful grace, that lies
In plants, herbs, ftones, and their true qualities.
For nought fo vile, that on the earth doth live,
But to the earth fome special good doth give:
Nor ought fo good, but ftrain'd from that fair use,
Revolts to vice, and ftumbles on abuse.
Virtue itself turns vice, being mifapplied,

B

And

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