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And for that name, which is no part of thee,
Take all myself.


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 night,

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 not yet drunk a hundred words Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound; Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?

Rom. Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike. Jul. How cam'st thou hither, tell me? and wherefore?

The orchard walls are high, and hard to climb, And the place death, considering who thou art, any of my kinsmen find thee here. *


Rom. With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls;

For stony limits cannot hold love out;

And what love can do, that dares love attempt,
Therefore, thy kinsmen are no let* 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 sight;

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 found'st thou out this place?

Rom. By love, who first did prompt me to inquire; + Unless thou love me.

* Hinderance.

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 furthest 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!
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.f
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;
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 the fruit-tree tops-
Jul. O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant


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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 in this contract of to-night:

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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 mine.

Jul I gave thee mine before thou didst request it: And yet I would it were to give again.

Rom. Would'st thou withdraw it? for what pur pose, love?

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.

Rom. 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, indeed.

If that thy bentt 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 feet I'll lay,

And follow thee my lord throughout the world.
Nurse. [Within.] Madam.

Jul. I come, anon:-But if thou mean'st not well I do beseech thee,-

Nurse. [Within.] Madam.

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By and by, I come:-
To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief:
To-morrow will I send.


So thrive my soul.

Jul. A thousand times good night!


Rom. A thousand times the worse, to want thy


Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from their


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's name.

Rom. It is my soul, that calls upon my name!
How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night,
Like softest music to attending ears!

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Jul. 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. 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 let's 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. * The male of the goshawk.

† Fetters.

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Sweet, so would I:

Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.
Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sor.
That I shall say-good night, till it be morrow. [row,


Love's heralds should be thoughts,

Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams,
Driving back shadows over low'ring hills:
Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love,
And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings.


These violent delights have violent ends,
And in their triumph die; like fire and powder,
Which, as they kiss, consume.


O, so light a foot

Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint:
A lover may bestride the gossomers*
That idle in the wanton summer air,
And yet not fall; so light is vanity.



Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,
Towards Phoebus' mansion; such a wagoner
As Phaton would whip you to the west,
And bring in cloudy night immediately.-
Spread thy close curtain, love performing night!
That run-away's eyes may wink; and Romeo

Leap to these arms, untalk'd of, and unseen!—
Lovers can see to do their amorous rites

By their own beauties: or, if love be blind,

It best agrees with night.


SCENE.--Friar Laurence's Cell.

Enter Friar LAURENCE and ROMEO. Fri. A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips, Not boy's death, but body's banishment.

*The long white filament which flies in the air.

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