And I'll no longer be a Capulet.

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, 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

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 where

fóre?

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:
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;

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,

no let-] i. e. no stop or hinderance.

7 And, but thou love me,] And so thou do but love me. Or it may mean, unless thou love me.

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 over-heard'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.

8

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 ?

Jul.

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.

Rom.

If my heart's dear loveJul. 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,
May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.
Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest
my breast!
Come to thy heart, as that within
Rom. O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?
Jul. What satisfaction canst thou have to-
night?

cunning to be strange.] To be strange, is to put on af

fected coldness, to appear shy.

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 purpose, 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.

[Exit. 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 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 not well, I do beseech thee,

Nurse. [Within.] Madam.

Jul.

By and by, I come:

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

Rom.

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 school-boys 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 !9

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

And make her airy tongue inore 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 musick to attending ears!

Rom.

Jul. I will not fail;

At what o'clock to-morrow

At the hour of nine.

'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:

• To lure this tassel-gentle back again!] The tassel or tiercel (for so it should be spelt) is the male of the gosshawk; so called, because it is a tierce or third less than the female. This is equally true of all birds of prey.