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ACT THE SECOND.
Enter BENVOLIO, with MERCUTIO. Ben. Romeo, my cousin Romeo.
Mer. He is wise, And, on my life, hath stol’n 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 ! humour! madman ! passion! lover! Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh. Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfy'd. Cry but ah me! couple but love and dove, I conjure thee, by thy mistress's bright eyes, By her high forehead, and her scarlet lip: By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh, That in thy likeness thou appear to us. Ben. And if he hear thee, thou wilt anger
him. Mer. This cannot anger
him : My invocation Is fair and honest, and, in his mistress' name, I conjure only but to raise him up. Ben. Come, he hath hid himself amongst these
trees, To be consorted with the hum'rous night.
Mer. Romeo, good night; I'll to my truckle bed, This field bed is too cold for me to sleep: Come, shall we go?
Rom. He jests at scars, that never felt a wound-But soft, what light thro' yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun ! It is my lady-Oh, it is my love! Oh that she knew she were !
JULIET appears above, at a Window. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she. She speaks, yet she says nothing ; what of that? Her eye discourses, I will answer it; I am too bold—Oh, were those eyes in Heav'n, They'd through the airy region stream so bright, That birds would sing, and think it were the morn: See, how she 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 speaks, she speaks !
Jul. Romeo, Romeo_wherefore art thou Romeo ? Deny thy father, and refuse thy name : Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, 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? 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, quit 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, I will forswear my name, And never more be Romeo. Jul. What man art thou, that thus bescreen'd in
Rom. I know not how to tell thee who I am :
Rom. Neither, fair saint, if either thee displease.
Jul. If they do see thee, they will murder thee.
Rom. Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye, Then 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. 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 merchandize.
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 complimentDost thou love me?-I know thou wilt say, 'ay, And I will take thy word.—Yet, if thou swear'st, Thou may'șt prove false; at lovers' perjuries They say, Jove laughs.-Oh, gentle Romeo, If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully: Or, if thou think I am too quickly won, I'll 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, And not impute this yielding to light love, Which the dark night hath so discovered.
Rom. Lady, by yonder blessed moun, I vow, That tips with silver all these tree tops Jul. O swear not by the moon, the inconstant
That monthly changes in her circled orb,
Rom. What shall I swear by ?
Jul. Do not swear at all;
Rom. If my true heart's love
Jul. Well, do not swear-although I joy in thee,
Rom. O wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied ?
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
Jul, But, to be frank, and give it thee again.
Nurse. (Calls within.] Madam!
[Erit. Řom. O blessed, blessed night ! I am afraid, Being in night, all this is but a dream ! Too flattering sweet to be substantial.