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The Same. CAPULET’S Orchard. | |
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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! | 5 |
| 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: | |
| Be not her maid, since she is envious; | |
| Her vestal livery is but sick and green, | 10 |
| And none but fools do wear it; cast it off. | |
| It is my lady; O! it is my love: | |
| O! that she knew she were. | |
| She speaks, yet she says nothing: what of that? | |
| Her eye discourses; I will answer it. | 15 |
| I am too bold, ’tis not to me she speaks: | |
| Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, | |
| Having some business, do entreat her eyes | |
| To twinkle in their spheres till they return. | |
| What if her eyes were there, they in her head? | 20 |
| The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars | |
| As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven | |
| Would through the airy region stream so bright | |
| That birds would sing and think it were not night. | |
| See! how she leans her cheek upon her hand: | 25 |
| O! that I were a glove upon that hand, | |
| That I might touch that cheek. | |
| Jul. Ay me! | |
| Rom. She speaks: | |
| O! speak again, bright angel; for thou art | 30 |
| As glorious to this night, being o’er my head, | |
| As is a winged messenger of heaven | |
| Unto the white-upturned wond’ring eyes | |
| Of mortals, that fall back to gaze on him | |
| When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds, | 35 |
| And sails upon the bosom 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 sworn my love, | |
| And I’ll no longer be a Capulet. | 40 |
| Rom. [Aside.] Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this? | |
| 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 | 45 |
| 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 | 50 |
| 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; | 55 |
| Henceforth I never will be Romeo. | |
| Jul. What man art thou, that, thus be-screen’d in night, | |
| So stumblest on my counsel? | |
| Rom. By a name | |
| I know not how to tell thee who I am: | 60 |
| 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 uttering, yet I know the sound: | 65 |
| Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague? | |
| Rom. Neither, fair maid, 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, | 70 |
| If any of my kinsmen find thee here. | |
| Rom. With love’s light wings did I o’erperch these walls; | |
| For stony limits cannot hold love out, | |
| And what love can do that dares love attempt; | |
| Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me. | 75 |
| 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. | 80 |
| 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 whose direction found’st thou out this place? | 85 |
| 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 furthest sea, | |
| I would adventure for such merchandise. | 90 |
| 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! | 95 |
| Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say ‘Ay;’ | |
| And I will take thy word; yet, if thou swear’st, | |
| Thou mayst prove false; at lovers’ perjuries, | |
| They say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo! | |
| If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully: | 100 |
| 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 mayst think my haviour light: | 105 |
| 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, | 110 |
| 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, | 115 |
| 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, | 120 |
| Which is the god of my idolatry, | |
| 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: | 125 |
| 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. | 130 |
| Good-night, good-night! as sweet repose and rest | |
| Come to thy heart as that within my breast! | |
| Rom. O! wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied? | |
| Jul. What satisfaction canst thou have to-night? | |
| Rom. The exchange of thy love’s faithful vow for mine. | 135 |
| Jul. I gave thee mine before thou didst request it; | |
| And yet I would it were to give again. | |
| Rom. Wouldst 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: | 140 |
| 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. | 145 |
| Stay but a little, I will come again. [Exit above. | |
| Rom. O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard, | |
| Being in night, all this is but a dream, | |
| Too flattering-sweet to be substantial. | |
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Re-enter JULIET, above. | 150 |
| Jul. Three words, dear Romeo, and goodnight 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; | 155 |
| 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,— | 160 |
| 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,— | 165 |
| Jul. A thousand times good-night! [Exit above. | |
| Rom. A thousand times the worse, to want thy light. | |
| Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from their books; | |
| But love from love, toward school with heavy looks. [Retiring. | |
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Re-enter JULIET, above. | 170 |
| Jul. Hist! Romeo, hist! O! for a falconer’s voice, | |
| To lure this tassel-gentle back again. | |
| 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, | 175 |
| 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 music to attending ears! | |
| Jul. Romeo! | 180 |
| Rom. My dear! | |
| Jul. At what o’clock to-morrow | |
| Shall I send to thee? | |
| Rom. At the hour of nine. | |
| Jul. I will not fail; ’tis twenty years till then. | 185 |
| 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, | |
| Remembering how I love thy company. | |
| Rom. And I’ll still stay, to have thee still forget, | 190 |
| Forgetting any other home but this. | |
| Jul. ’Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone; | |
| And yet no further than a wanton’s bird, | |
| Who lets it hop a little from her hand, | |
| Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves, | 195 |
| And with a silk thread plucks it back again, | |
| So loving-jealous of his liberty. | |
| Rom. I would I were thy bird. | |
| Jul. Sweet, so would I: | |
| Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing. | 200 |
| 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! | |
| Hence will I to my ghostly father’s cell, | 205 |
| His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell. [Exit. | |
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