Imatges de pÓgina

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 ftream fo 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!

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 meffenger from heav'n,

Unto the white-upturned, wondring, eyes
Of mortals, that fall back to gaze on him;
When he beftrides the lazy-pacing clouds,
And fails upon the bofom of the air.

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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 fhall I speak at this?

Jul. 'Tis but thy name that is my enemy:
Thou art thyfelf, though not a Montague.
What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face-nor any other part.
What's in a name? that which we call a rose,
By any other name would fmell as fweet.
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,

(6) 0, 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 alter the Text fo, i. e. Thou appeareft over my Head, as glorious to my Eyes, as an Angel in the Clouds to Mortals that ftare 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, befcreen'd in night So ftumbleft 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 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 faint, if either thee dislike. Jul. How cam'ft thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? The orchard-walls are high, and hard to climb; And the place death, confidering who thou art, If any of my kinsmen find thee here.

Ro. With love's light wings did I o'er-perch thefe walls, For ftony limits cannot hold love out;

And what love can do, that dares love attempt:
Therefore thy kinfmen are no ftop 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 sweet, 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 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 whofe direction foundft 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 shore, wafh'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 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. Oh, gentle Romeo,
If thou doft love, pronounce it faithfully:
Or if you think, I am too quickly won,
I'll frown and be perverfe, and fay thee nay,;
So thou wilt wooe: 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 thofe that have more cunning to be ftrange.
I should have been more ftrange, I must confefs,
But that thou over-heardft, 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 fo difcovered.

Rom. Lady, by yonder bleffed moon I vow, That tips with filver all thefe fruit-tree topsJul. O fwear not by the moon, th' inconftant moon, That monthly changes in her circled orb; Left that thy love prove likewife variable. Rem. What fhall I fwear by

Jul. Do not fwear at all;

Or, if thou wilt, fwear 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 fwear-although I joy in thee,
I have no joy of this contract to-night;
It is too rafh, too unadvis'd, too fudden,
Too like the lightning, which doth ceafe to be,





Ere one can fay, 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 repofe and reft
Come to thy heart, as that within my breast!

Rom. O, wilt thou leave me fo unfatisfied?

Jul. What fatisfaction canft 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. Wouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpofe,

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 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 nurfe:Sweet Montague, be true:
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,

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 my 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


To ceafe thy fuit, and leave me to my grief.
To-morrow will I fend.


Rom. So thrive my foul,

ful. A thoufand 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.

Enter Juliet again.

Jul. Hift! Romeo, hift! O for a falkner's voice,
To lure this taffel gentle back again-

Bondage is hoarfe, and may not speak aloud;
Elfe would I tear the cave where echo lies,

And make her airy tongue more hoarse 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!

Rem. My fweet!

ful. At what o'clock to-morrow

Shall I fend to thee?

Rom. By the hour of nine.

Jul. I will not fail, 'tis twenty years 'till thenI 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; Reinembring how I love thy company.

Rom. And I'll till ftay 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,

Like a poor prifoner in his twisted gyves,

And with a filk thread plucks it back again,

So loving-jealous of his liberty.

Rem. I would, I were thy bird.

Jul. Sweet, fo would I;

Yet I fhould kill thee with much cherishing.

Cood-night, good-night. Parting is fuch fweet forrow, That I fhall fay good-night, 'till it be morrow. [Exit.


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