Retain that dear perfection which 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:

Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized

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,
Because it 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 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 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.

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, 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? 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 farthest sea,

I would adventure for such merchandize.

Jul. Thou knowest the mask of night is on thy 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 swearest, Thou mayest prove false; at lovers' perjuries, They say, Jove laughs. Oh, gentle Romeo, If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully; Or if thou thinkest 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 mayest 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 overheard'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 discover'd.

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

Jul. Oh, 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,
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 :

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 bed of love, by summer's ripening breath,
May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.
Good-night, good-night! as sweet repose and rest
Come to thy heart, as that within my breast.

Rom. Oh, 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. 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:

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 some noise within: Dear love, adieu!

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

Rom. O blessed, blessed night! I am afear'd,

[Exit.

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

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 lord, throughout the world.

[Within: Madam.]

I come, anon :-But if thou meanest not well,

I do beseech thee,-[Within: Madam.] 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 ;

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 towards school with heavy looks.

Re-enter JULIET again, above.

Jul. Hist! Romeo, hist !—Oh, 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

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 !

Rom. My sweet!

Jul. At what o'clock to-morrow

Shall I send 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 farther than a lady's bird;

Who lets him hop a little from her hand,
Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,
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.

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;
His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell.

[Exit.

WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE.