So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, 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, 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 For stony limits cannot hold love out: And what love can do, that dares love attempt; [walls; 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, thou but 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? C d dislike,]-here means displease. no let-] i. e. No stop or hinderance. e And, thou but love me,] i. e Unless thou love me.--M. MASON. 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, 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. 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, And I'll believe thee. · farewell compliment !] i. e. Farewell attention to forms.-M. MASON. to be strange.] i. e. To put on affected coldness, to appear shy.STEEVENS. 8 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, Rom. O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied? Jul. I gave thee mine before thou didst request it: Rom. Would'st thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love? Jul. But to be frank, and give it thee again. [Nurse calls within. I hear some noise within; Dear love, adieu! Rom. O blessed blessed night! I am afeard, Too flattering-sweet to be substantial. Re-enter JULIET above. [Exit. 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: Jul. I come, anon:-But if thou mean'st not well, I do beseech thee,- Jul. By and by, I come : To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief: 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!-O, for a falconer's voice, To lure this tassel-gentle back again !h 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 Rom. It is my soul, that calls upon my name: 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. 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. It had the epithet of gentle annexed to it, from the ease with which it was tamed, and its attachment to man. From old books on the subject of falconry, we find that certain hawks were considered as appropriated to certain ranks. The tercel-gentle was appropriated to the prince.-STEEVENS and MALONE. 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: Who lets it hop a little from her hand, Rom. I would, I were thy bird. Jul. Sweet, so would I: Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing. Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow, That I shall say-good night, till it be morrow. [Exit. Rom. Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast! Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest! His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell. [Exit. SCENE III. Friar Laurence's Cell. Enter Friar LAURENCE, with a basket. Fri. The grey-ey'd morn smiles on the frowning night, From forth day's path-way, made by Titan's wheels: None but for some, and yet all different. i -flecked-] i. e. Streaked. |