Nurse. Anon, anon:

Come, let's away; the strangers all are gone.

[Exeunt.

Enter CHORUS.

Now old desire doth on his death-bed lie,

And young affection gapes to be his heir:

That fair, for which love groan'd sore, and would die,

With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair.

Now Romeo is belov'd, and loves again,

Alike bewitched by the charm of looks;

But to his foe suppos'd he must complain,

And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful

hooks:

Being held a foe he may not have access

To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear;

And she as much in love, her means much less

To meet her new-beloved any where:

But passion lends them power, time means to meet, Temp'ring extremities with extreme sweet.

740

[Exit Chorus.

ACT

ACT II. SCENE I.

The Street. Enter ROMEO alone.

Romeo.

CAN I go forward, when my heart is here?
Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out,

Enter BENVOLIO, with MERCUTIO,

Ben. Romeo! my cousin Romeo!

Mer. He is wise;

And, on my life, hath stol'n him home to bed.

[Exit,

Ben. He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall:

Call, good Mercutio,

Mer. Nay, I'll conjure too.

Why, Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover! Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh,

Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied;

Cry but-Ay me! couple but-love and dove;
Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word,
One nick-name to her purblind son and heir,
Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim,
When king Cophetua lov'd the beggar-maid.
He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not;
The
ape is dead, and I must conjure him.-
I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes,
By her high forehead, and her scarlet lip,
Diij

19

20

By

By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh, And the demesnes that there adjacent lies

That in thy likeness thou appear to us.

Ben. An if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him.

Mer. This cannot anger him: 'twould anger him To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle

Of some strange nature, letting it there stand 'Till she had laid it, and conjur'd it down; That were some spight: my invocation

Is fair and honest, and, in his mistress' name,
I conjure only but to raise up him.

30

Ben. Come, he hath hid himself among those

trees,

To be consorted with the humorous night:

Blind is his love, and best befits.the dark.

Mer. If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.

Now will he sit under a medlar tree,

And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit,
As maids call medlars, when they laugh alone.—
Romeo, good night;-I'll to my truckle-bed;
This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep:
Come, shall we go?

Ben. Go, then for 'tis in vain

To seek him here, that means not to be found.

40

[Exeunt.

SCENE

SCENE II.

CAPULET'S Garden. Enter ROMEO.

Rom. He jests at scars, that never felt a wound.— But, soft! what light through yonder window

breaks ?

It is the east, and Juliet is the sun!--

[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:

Be not her maid, since she is envious;

Her vestal livery is but sick and green,
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? discourses, I will answer it.

Her eye

50

60

I am too bold, 'tis not to me it speaks:
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
Having some business, do intreat her eyes
To twinkle in their spheres 'till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars;
As day-light doth a lamp; her eye 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!

that

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
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,
And sails upon the bosom of the air.

70

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.

80

Rom. Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?
[Aside.

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:
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,
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:

go

Call