SCENE II.

The Street.

Enter Romeo alone.

Rom. Can I go forward when my heart is here? Turn back, dull earth, and find thy center out. [Exit.

Enter Benvolio with Mercutio.

Ben. Romeo, my cousin Romeo.

Mer. He is wife,

And on my life hath ftoln him home to bed.

Ben. He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall. Call, good Mercutio.

Mer. Nay, I'll conjure too.

Why, Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover!
Appear thou in the likeness of a Sigh,

Speak but one Rhime, and I am fatisfied.
Cry but Ay me! couple but love and dove,
Speak to my goflip Venus one fair word,
One nick-name to her pur-blind fon and heir,
(Young Abraham Cupid, he that fhot fo true,
When king Cophetua lov'd the beggar-maid)
He heareth not, he ftirreth not, he moveth not
The ape is dead, and I must conjure him.
I conjure thee by Rofaline's bright eyes,
By her high fore-head, and her fearlet lip,
By her fine foot, ftraight leg, and quivering thigh,
And the demeafns that there adjacent lye,
That in thy likeness thou appear to us.

Ben. And if he hear thee, thou wilt anger. him.
Mir. This cannot anger him: 'twould anger hum
To raife a fpirit in his miftrefs' circle,

Of fome ftrange nature, letting it there ftand
'Till fhe had laid it, and conjur'd it down,
That were lome fpight. My invocation is
Honeft and fair, and in his mistress' name,
I conjure only but to raife up him.
Ben. Come, he hath hid himself
among
To be conforted with the hum'rous night;
B

thefe trees

Blind

Blind is his love, and beft befits the dark.

Mer. If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark, Now will he fit under a medlar-tree,

And with his mistress were that kind of fruit,
Which maids call medlars when they laugh alone-
Romeo, good night, I'll to my truckle-bed,
This field-bed is too cold for me to fleep:
Come, fhall we go?

Ben. Go then, for 'tis in vain

To feek him here that means not to be found.

L

[Exeunt,

SCENE III.

A GARDEN.

Enter Romeo.'

Rom. HE jefts at fears that never felt a wound
But foft, what light thro' yonder window

breaks?

It is the eaft, 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 wth grief,

That thou, her maid, art far more fair than fhe.
Be not her maid fince fhe is envious:

Her veftal livery is but fick and green,

And none but fools do wear it, caft it off-
She fpeaks, yet fhe fays nothing; what of that?
Her eye difcourfes, I will anfwer it-

I am too bold, 'tis not to me fhe speaks:
Two of the fairest ftars of all the heav'n,
Having fome business, do intreat her eyes
To twinkle in their fpheres 'till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightnefs of her cheek would fhame thole ftars,
As day-light doth a lamp; her eyes in heav'n,
Would through the airy region ftream fo bright,

That

1

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!

Rom. She fpeaks.

Oh fpeak again, bright angel, for thou art
As glorious to this night, 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.

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 fpeak at this?

Jul. 'Tis but thy name that is my enemy:
What's Mountague? it is not hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face. nor any other part.
What's in a name? that which we call a rofe,
By any other name would smell as fweet.
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,
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 thy felf.

Rom. I take thee at thy word:

Call me but love and I'll be new baptiz'd,

Henceforth I never will be Romeo.

[afide

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

Rom. By a name

I know not how to tell thee who I am:

My name, dear faint, is hateful to my self,
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

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of

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:
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,
kinfmen find thee here.

If

any of 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 dires 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 swords; 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 found'st thou out this place? Rom. By love, that first did prompt me to enquire, He lent me counsel, 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'it the mask of night is on my face,
Elfe would a maiden blufh bepaint my cheek
For that which thou hast 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 (wear'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 pervetfe, and fay thee nay,
So thou wilt wope: but elfe not for the world.

In

In truth, fair Mountague, I am too fond;
And therefore thou may'ft think my 'haviour light:
But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true,
Than those that have more cunning to be strange.
I fhould have been more ftrange, I must confefs,
But that thou over-beard'ft, 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. Rom. 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, donot 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-fweet, 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 breaft.

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 requeft it: And yet I would it were to give again.

Rom. Wouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love?

ful. But to be frank, and it give 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,
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The