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 ftumbleft 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.

ful. 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 kinfmen find thee here.

1

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 kinfmen are no ftop 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 fwords; look thou but fweet, And I am proof against their enmity.

Jul. I would not for the world, they faw thee here.
Rom. I have night's cloak to hide me from their

eyes,

And

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 whofe direction found'st thou out this place?
Rom. By love, that firft did prompt me to enquire
He lent me counfel, and I lent him eyes.
I am no Pilot, yet wert thou as far

As that vast shore, wash'd with the fartheft sea,
I would adventure for fuch merchandise.

ful. Thou know'ft, the mask of night is on my face,

Elfe would a maiden-blush bepaint my cheek
For that which thou haft heard me fpeak to-night
Fain would I dwell on form; fain, fain, deny
What I have spoke but farewel compliment!
Doft thou love me? I know, thou wilt fay, ay;
And I will take thy word yet if thou fwear'ft,
Thou may'st prove false; at lovers' perjuries,
They fay, 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 perverfe, and fay thee nay,
So thou wilt wooe; but elfe, 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 ftrange.
I should have been more ftrange, 1 muft confefs,
But that thou over-heard'ft, 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 fo discovered.

Rom. Lady, by yonder bleffed moon I vow, That tips with filver all these fruit-tree tops

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

Jul.

Jul. O fwear not by the moon, th' inconftant moon,
That monthly changes in her circled orb;
Left that thy love prove likewife variable.
Rom. What fhall I fwear by ?
Jul. Do not fwear at all;

Or, if thou wilt, fwear by thy gracious felf,
Which is the God of
my idolatry,
And I'll believe thee.

Rom. If my true heart's love

Jul. Well, do not fwear. 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 fay, it lightens. Sweet, good night.
This bud of love by fummer'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 fo unfatisfied?

Jul. What fatisfaction can'ft 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. Wouldft thou withdraw it? for what pur pofe, 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.
I hear fome noife within. Dear love, adieu!

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

[Exit.

Rom. O bleffed, bleffed night! I am afraid,
Being in night, all this is but a dream;
Too flattering-fweet to be fubftantial.

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. -but if thou mean'ft not well, -[Within: Madam.] By and by,

I come, anon-
I do beseech thee-

I come

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

Rom. So thrive

my foul,

Jul. A thousand times, good night.

[Exit.

Rom. A thoufand times the worse, to want thy

light.

Love goes tow'rd love, as fchool-boys from their books;

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

Enter Juliet again.

Jul. Hift! Romeo, hift! O for a falkner's voice,
To lure this Taffel gentle back again.
Bondage is hoarfe, and may not speak 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 filver-sweet found lovers' tongues by night,
Like fofteft mufick to attending ears!

Jul.

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 ftand here 'till thou remember it. Jul. I fhall forget, to have thee ftill stand there; Remembering how I love thy company.

Rom. And I'll ftill ftay to have thee ftill forget, Forgetting any other home but this.

Jul. 'Tis almoft 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 twifted 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, fo would 1;

Yet I fhould kill thee with much cherishing.
-Good night, good night. Parting is fuch fweet
forrow,

That I fhall fay good-night, 'till it be morrow. [Exit. Rom. Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast!

'Would I were fleep and peace, fo sweet to rest! Hence will I to my ghoftly Friar's close Cell, His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell.

[Exit.

SCENE