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, 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, 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 stumbleft 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 yet not drunk a hundred words Of that tongue's uttering, yet I know the found. Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?

Rom. Neither, fair Saint, if either thee dislike.
Jul. How cam'ft thou hither, tell me, and where-

fore?

The orchard-walls are high, and hard to climb ;
And the place death, confidering 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 ftony limits cannot hold love out;
And what love can do, that dares love attempt:
Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me.

Jul. If they do fee thee, they will murder thee. Rom. Alack! there lies more peril in thine eye, Than twenty of their swords; look thou but fweet, 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

eyes,

And

1

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'ft thou out this place? Rom. By love, that first did prompt me to enquire;

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 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 farewel 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. Oh, gentle Romeo,
If thou doft love, pronounce it faithfully;
Or if you think, I am too quickly won,
I'll frown and be perverse, and say thee nay,
So thou wilt wooe; 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 coying to be strange.
I should have been more strange, I must confefs,
But that thou over-heard'st, ere I was 'ware,
My true love's Paffion; 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 vow,
That tips with filver all these fruit-tree tops

7 coying to be strange.] For coying, the modern editions have

cunning.

Jul.

Jul. O fwear not by the moon, th' inconstant moon,

That monthly changes in her circled orb;
Left 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 true heart's 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 fudden,

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 fweet Repose and Rest
Come to thy heart, as that within my breast!
Rom. O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?
Jul. What fatisfaction can'st thou have to-night?
Rom. Th' 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. Wouldst thou withdraw it? for what pur

pose, 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 fea,
My love as deep, the more I give to thee,
The more I have, for both are infinite.
I hear fome noise within. Dear love, adieu!

[Nurse calls within.

[Exit.

Anon, good nurse. Sweet Montague, be true.
Stay but a little, I will come again.

Rom. O blefssed, blessed night! I am afraid,

Being in night, all this is but a dream;
Too flattering-fweet to be substantial.

Re-enter

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 love, throughout the world.
[Within: Madam.

I come, anon-but if thou mean'st not well,
I do beseech thee-[Within: Madam.] By and by,

I come

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

Rom. So thrive my foul,-

Jul. A thousand times, good night.

[Exit.

Rom. A thousand times the worse, to want thy

light.

Love goes tow'rd love, as school-boys from their

books;

But love from love, tow'rds school with heavy looks.

Enter Juliet again.

Jul. Hift! Romeo, hist! O for a falkner's voice,

To lure this Taffel gentle back again.
Bondage is hoarse, and may not fpeak aloud;
Elfe would I tear the cave where Echo lies,

And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine,

With repetition of my Romeo.

Rom. It is my love that calls upon my name, How silver-fweet found lovers' tongues by night,

Like softest musick to attending ears!

Jul.

1

Jul. Romeo!

Rom. My Sweet!

Jul. At what o'clock to-morrow

Shall I fend to thee?

Rom. By the hour of nine.

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;
Remembering 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,

And yet no further than a Wanton's bird,
That lets it hop a little from her hand,
Like a poor prifoner in his twisted gyves,
And with a filk thread plucks it back again,
So loving jealous of his liberty.

Rom. I would, I were thy bird.
Jul. Sweet, so would 1;

Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.
-Good night, good night. Parting is such sweet

forrow,

That I shall fay 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 Friar's close Cell,
His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell.

[Exit.

SCENE