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And young affection gapes to be his heir;
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 loyers 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. [Exit.
AN OPEN PLACE, ADJOINING CAPULET'S
Rom. Can I go forward, when my
heart is here? Turn back, dull earth, and find thy center out.
[He climbs the wall, and leaps down within it.
Enter Benvolio, and Mercutio. Ben. Romeo! my cousin Romeo! Mer.
He is wise; And, on my life, hath stolen him home to bed. Ben. He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard
Nay, I'll conjure too.-
ape is dead, and I must conjure him.-
By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh,
Ben. An if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him.
Mer. This cannot anger him: 'twould anger him
Mer. If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.
Go, then; for 'tis in vain
[Juliet appears above, at a window. But, soft! what light through yonder window
breaks! It is the east, and Juliet is the sun! 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; 0, 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. 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? The brightness of her cheek would shame those
stars, As daylight 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 !
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. Jul. O Romeo, Romeo ! wherefore art thou
Romeo? Deny thy father, and refuse thy name: Or, if thou wilt not, be þut sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet: 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 Belonging to a man. 0, 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 callid, 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.
I take thee at thy word: