Imatges de pàgina

What if her eyes were there, they in her head ?
The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,
As day-light doth a lamp; her eyes in heav'n
Would through the airy region stream fo bright,
That birds would fing, 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. Ah me!

Rem. She speaks !
Oh, speak again, bright angel! for thou art (6)
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 sails 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 sworn my love,
And I'll no longer be a Capulet.
Rom. Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this ?

[ Aside. Jal. '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 faceWhat's in a name ? that which we call a rose, By any other name would smell as fweet. So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d,

nor any

other part.

(6) O, Speak again, bright Angel! for thou art

As glorious to this Night,] Though all the printed Copies concur in this Reading, yet the latter Part of the Simile seems to require,

As glorious to this Sight; and therefore I have ventured to al:er the Text fo, i. e. Thou appeareit over my Head, as glorious to my Eyes, as an An. gel in the Clouds to Mortals that stare up at him with Admi.. ration,

Retain that dear perfection which he owes,
Without that title; Romeo, quit thy name;
And for thy 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 counsel?

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 yet not drunk a hundred words
Of that tongue's uttering, yet I know the found.
Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague ?

Rom. Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike. Jul. How cam'lt thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? Tae orchard-walls are high, and hard to climb; And the place death, confidering who thou art,

my kinsmen find thee here. Ro With love's light wings did Io'er-perch these walls, For itony 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 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 eyes, 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 whose direction foundit thou out this place?

Rom. By love, that firft did prompt me to enquire ; He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes : I am no pilot, yet wert thou as far

If any


As that vaft shore, walh'd with the fartheft sea,
I would adventure for such merchandise.

Jul. Thou know'it, the mask of night is on my face,
Else 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'ft,
Thou may'ft prove false ; at lovers' perjuries,
They say, Jove laughs. Oh, gentle Romeo,
If thou doft love, pronounce it faithfully:
Or if you think, I am too quickly won,
I'll frown and be perverse, and say thee nay,
So thou wilt wooe: but else, not for the world.
In truth, fair Montague, T am too fond;
And therefore thou may'lt think my 'haviour light :
But trust me, Gentleman, I'll prove more true,
Than thofe that have more cunning to be strange.
I should have been more strange, I mult confess,
But that thou over-heardft, ere I was ’ware,
My true love's paflion ; therefore pardon me,
And not impute this yielding to light love, ,
Which the dark night hath to discovered.

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

Jul. O swear not by the moon, th’inconftant moon, That monthly changes in her circled orb; eft 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 self,
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 rafh, too unadvis'd, too sudden,
"Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be,


Ere one can say, it lightens-Sweet, 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 repose and reft
Come to thy heart, as that within my breast !

Rom. O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied ?
Jul. What satisfaction canft thou have to-night?
Rom. Th’exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.
Jul. I gave thee

mine, before thou didst requeft it : And yet I would, it were to give again. Rom. Wouldft thou withdraw it? for what purpofe,

love ?
Jul. Bat 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 Hattering-fweet to be fubftantial,


Re-enter Juliet above. Jul. Three words, dear Romeo, and good-night, indeed : If that thy bent of love be honourable, Thy purpofe marriage, send 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


fortunes at thy foot I'll lay, And follow thee, my love, throughout the world.

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

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To cease thy fuit, and leave me to my grief.
To-morrow will. I serd

Rom. So thrive


foul, Jul. A thousand times, good-night.

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

Erter 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 echu lies,
And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine,
With repetition of my Romeo.

Ron. It is my love that calls upon my name,
How filver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night,
Like fofteft mufick to attending ears !

Jul. Romeo !

Rom. My sweet! : Jul. Ar what o'clock to-morrow Shall I send to thee?

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 stand here 'till thou remember it.

Juł. I shall forget, to have thee ftill stand there ; Reinembring how I love thy company.

Rom. And I'll ftill stay to have thee ftill 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, That lets it hop a little from her hand, Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves, And with a silk thread plucks it back again, So loving-jealous of his liberty.

Rom. I would, I were thy bird,

Ful. Sweet, fo would I ; Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing. Cood-night, good-niglit. Parting is such fweet forrow, That I fall say good-night, 'till it be morrow. [Exit.


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