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, Tempering extremities with extreme sweet.

[Exit.

ACT II.

SCENE I. An open Place adjoining Capulet's

Garden.

Enter ROMEO.

Rom. Can I go forward, when my heart is here? Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre 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 leaped this orchard

wall.

Call, good Mercutio.

Mer.

Nay, I'll conjure, too.

Romeo! humors! madman! passion! lover!

Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh,

Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied;

Cry but-Ah me! pronounce1 but-love and dove; Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word,

1 This is the reading of the quarto of 1597. Those of 1599 and 1609, and the folio, read provaunt, an evident corruption. The folio of 1632 has couply, meaning couple, which has been the reading of many modern editions.

One nickname for her purblind son and heir,
Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim,1
When king Cophetua loved the beggar-maid.-
He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not;
The ape2 is dead, and I must conjure him.-
I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes,
By her high forehead, and her scarlet lip,
By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh,
And the demesnes that there adjacent lie,
That in thy likeness thou appear to us.
Ben. An if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him.
Mer. This cannot anger him; 'twould
To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle
Of some strange nature, letting it there stand
Till she had laid it, and conjured it down;
That were some spite. My invocation

anger him

Is fair and honest, and in his mistress' name,

I conjure only but to raise up him.

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

[Exeunt.

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

1 All the old copies read, Abraham Cupid. The alteration was proposed by Mr. Upton. It evidently alludes to the famous archer Adam Bell. The ballad alluded to is King Cophetua and the Beggar-Maid, or, as it is called in some copies, "The Song of a Beggar and a King." It may be seen in the first volume of Percy's Reliques of Ancient Poetry. 2 This phrase, in Shakspeare's time, was used as an expression of tenderness, like poor fool, &c.

3 i. e. the humid, the moist, dewy night. Chapman uses the word in this sense in his translation of Homer.

4 After this line in the old copies are two lines of ribaldry.

SCENE II. Capulet's Garden.

Enter ROMEO.

Rom. He jests at scars, that never felt a wound.1 [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,2 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?
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!

O that I were a glove upon that hand,

That I might touch that cheek!

Jul.

Rom.

Ah me!

She speaks.

O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art
As glorious to this sight, being o'er my head,
As is a winged messenger of heaven
Unto the white-upturned, wondering eyes

1 That is, Mercutio jests, whom he has overheard.

2 i. e. be not a votary to the moon, to Diana.

3 The old copies read," to this night." Theobald made the emendation.

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 but sworn my love,

And I'll no longer be a Capulet.

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

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. O, 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 called,
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. Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized;

Henceforth I never will be Romeo.

[Aside.

Jul. What man art thou, that, thus bescreened 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 is an enemy to thee;

Had I it written, I would tear the word.

Jul. My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound; Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?

Rom. Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike.1
Jul. How cam'st thou hither, tell me? and where-

fore?

1 i. e. displease.

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'erperch these walls;

For stony limits cannot hold love out;

And what love can do, that dares love attempt;
Therefore thy kinsmen are no let1 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

2

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 washed with the furthest 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 farewell compliment!
Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say-Ay;
And I will take thy word; yet, if thou swear'st,
Thou mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries,
They say, Jove laughs.5 O gentle Romeo,

1 i. e. no stop, no hinderance. Thus the quarto of 1597. The subsequent copies read, "no stop to me."

2 But is here again used in its exceptive sense, without or unless.

3 i. e. postponed.

4 i. e. farewell attention to forms.

5 This Shakspeare found in Ovid's Art of Love.