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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 callid,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes,
Without that title:-Romeo, doff 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
So stumblest on my counsel ?
By a name
I know not how to tell thee who I am;
My name, dear saint, 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 thy tongue's uttering, yet I know the sound;
Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague ?
Rom. Neither, fair maid, if either thee dislike.a
Jul. How cam'st thou hither, tell me ? and where.
The orchard walls are high and hard to climb;
And the place death, considering who thou art,
If any of my kinsmen find thee here.
Rom. With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these
For stony 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
And, but thou love me, a let them find me here :
My life were better ended by their hate,
Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.
Jul. By whose direction found'st thou out this place?
Rom. By love, that first did prompt me to inquire; He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes. I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far As that vast shore wash'd with the farthest sea, I would adventure for such merchandise.
Jul. Thou know'st 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 farewell compliment !b
Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say—Ay;
And I will take thy word : yet, if thou swear'st,
Thou may'st prove false ; at lovers' perjuries,
They say, Jove laughs. O, gentle Romeo,
If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully :
Or, if thou think'st I am too quickly won,
I 'll frown, and be perverse, and say thee nay,
So thou wilt woo; but, else, not for the world.
In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond;
And therefore thou may'st 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 strange, I must confess,
But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware,
My true love's passion : therefore pardon me;
a But thou love me.--So thou do but love me.
b Farewell compliment-farewell respect for forms.
And not impute this yielding to light love,
Which the dark night hath so discovered.
Rom. Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear,
That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops,—
Jul. O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon That monthly changes in her circled orb, Lest that thy love prove likewise variable. Rom. What shall I swear by ?
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.
If my heart's dear love-
Jul. Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee,
I have no joy of this contráct to-night :
It is too rash, 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 summer's ripening breath,
May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.
Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest
Come to thy heart, as that within my breast!
Rom. O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied ?
Jul. What satisfaction canst thou have to-night ,
Rom. The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for
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 purpose,
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 sea,
My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
The more I have, for both are infinite.
[Nurse calls within. I hear some noise within ; Dear love, adieu !
Anon, good nurse -Sweet Montague, be true.
Stay but a little, I will come again.
Řom. O blessed blessed night! I am afeard,
Being in night, all this is but a dream,
Too flattering sweet to be substantial.
Re-enter Juliet, above.
Jul. Three words, dear Romeo, and good night, in-
If that thy bent of love be honourable,
Thy purpose 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 lord throughout the world.
Nurse. [Within.] Madam.
Jul. I come, anon :-But if thou mean'st uot well, I do beseech thee
Nurse. [Within.] Madam.
By and by, I come :-
To cease thy strife and leave me to my grief:
To-morrow will I send.
So thrive my soul,-
Jul. A thousand times good night! [Exit.
Rom. A thousand times the worse to want thy light-Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from their books ; But love from love, toward school with heavy looks.
[Retiring slowly. Re-enter Juliet, above. Jul. Hist! Romeo, hist!—0, for a falconer's voice, To lure this tassel-gentle back again! Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud; Else 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 soul, that calls upon my name :
How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night,
Like softest music to attending ears!
Nurse. [Within.] Madam.
What o'clock to-morrow
Shall I send to thee?
By the hour of nine.
Jul. I will not fail ; 't is twenty years till then.
I have forgot why I did call thee back.
Rom. Let me stand here till thou remember it.
Jul. I shall forget, to have thee still stand there, Rememb’ring how I love thy company.
Rom. And I 'll still stay, to have thee still 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 ; Who 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.
Sweet, so would I : Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing. Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow, That I shall say good night, till it be morrow. [Exit. Rom. Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy
breast 'Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest ! Hence will I to my ghostly friar's close cell; His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell. (Exit.
SCENE III.-Friar Laurence's Cell.
Enter Friar LAURENCE, with a basket. Fri. The grey-ey'd morn smiles on the frowning night, Checkering the eastern clouds with streaks of light;