Enter Benvolio, and Mercutio. Ben. Romeo! my cousin Romeo! He is wise; And, on my life, hath stolen him home to bed. Ben. He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall: Call, good Mercutio. Mer. Nay, I'll conjure too.Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover! Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh, Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied; Cry but-Ah me! couple but-love and dove; Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word, One nick-name for her purblind son and heir, Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim, When king Cophetua lov'd the beggar-maid.— He heareth not, stirreth not, he moveth not; The ape2 is dead, and I must conjure him.— I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes, By her high forehead, and her scarlet lip, By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh, And the demesnes that there adjacent lie, That in thy likeness thou appear to us. Ben. An if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him. Mer. This cannot anger him: 'twould anger him To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle, Of some strange nature, letting it there stand Is fair and honest, and, in his mistress' name, I conjure only but to raise up him. Ben. Come, he hath hid himself among those trees, To be consorted with the humorous night: (1) Alluding to the old ballad of the king and the beggar. (2) This phrase in Shakspeare's time was used as an expression of tenderness. (3) Humid, moist Blind is his love, and best befits the dark. Mer. If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark. Now will he sit under a medlar-tree, And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit, Ben. [Exeunt. SCENE II-Capulet's garden. Enter Romeo. Rom. He jests at scars, that never felt a wound.[Juliet appears above, at a window. But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun! Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, That thou her maid art far more fair than she Her vestal livery is but sick and green, And none but fools do wear it; cast it off- O, that she knew she were!- She speaks, yet she says nothing; What of that? I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks: As daylight doth a lamp; her eye in heaven (1) A votary to the moon, to Diana See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! Jul. Rom. Ah me! She speaks:-- Unto the white up-turned wond'ring eyes Jul. O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Ro meo? Deny thy father, and refuse thy name : Rom. Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this? [Aside Jul. '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 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 call'd, Retain that dear perfection which he owes,1 Without that title:--Romeo, doff? thy name; And for that 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 stumblest on my counsel? Rom. By a name (1) Owns, possesses.. (2) Do off, I know not how to tell thee who I am: 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, If 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 : 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,2 let them find me here: Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love. Rom. By love, who 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 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, (1) Hindrance. (2) Unless thou love me. For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night. Rom. Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear, moon, That monthly changes in her circled orb, Jul. Do not swear at all; Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, And I'll believe thee. Rom. If my heart's dear love Jul. Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee, I have no joy of this contract 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, |