In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond; And therefore thou may'st think my 'havior light: Rom. Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear, Jul. O, 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 ? Do not swear at all; Jul. And I'll believe thee. Rom. If my heart's dear love Jul. Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee, on I have no joy in this contract to-night: It is too rash, too unadvis'd, too sudden; Rom. O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied? And yet I would it were to give again. Rom. Wouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love? And yet I wish but for the thing I have: My bounty is as boundless as the sea, I hear some noise within; Dear love, adieu ! Rom. O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard, Being in night, all this is but a dream, Too flattering-sweet to be substantial. Re-enter JULIET, above. [Nurse calls within. Jul. Three words, dear Romeo, and good night, indeed, If that the bent of love be honorable, [Exit. Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow, Where, and what time thou wilt perform the rite; And follow thee my lord throughout the world. Jul. I come, anon :-But if thou mean'st not well,- Nurse. [Within.] Madam. Jul. By and by, I come : To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief; Rom. So thrive my soul,- Re-enter JULIET, above. [Ex. [Retiring slowly. Jul. Hist! Romeo, hist!-O, for a falconer's voice, Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud; And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine Rom. It is my soul that calls upon my name: Jul. Romeo! Rom. Jul. My sweet! At what o'clock to-morrow At the hour of nine. Shall I send to thee? Rom. Rom. Let me stand here till thou remember it. 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: Who lets it hop a little from her hand, Rom. I would, I were thy bird. 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 SCENE III.-Friar Laurence's Cell. Enter Friar LAURENCE, with a basket. Fri. The gray-ey'd morn smiles on the frowning night, The day to cheer, and night's dank dew to dry, With baleful weeds, and precious-juiced flowers. Enter ROMEO. Benedicite! Rom. Good morrow, father! Doth couch his lims, there golden sleep doth reign. Thou art up-rous'd by some distemp❜rature, Rom. That last is true, the sweeter rest was mine. Fri. Heaven pardon sin! wast thou with Rosaline? I have forgot that name, and that name's woe. Fri. That's my good son: But where hast thou been then? Rom. I'll tell thee, ere thou ask it me again. I have been feasting with mine enemy; Where, on a sudden, one hath wounded me, Fri. Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift; Rom. Then plainly know, my heart's dear love is set On the fair daughter of rich Capulet: As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine; And all combin'd, save what thou must combine Fri. Holy Saint Francis! what a change is here! Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline! And art thou chang'd? pronounce this sentence then- Fri. For doting, not for loving, pupil mine. Fri. To lay one in, another out to have. Not in a grave, Rom. I pray thee, chide not: she, whom I love now. Doth grace for grace, and love for love allow; The other did not so. O, she knew well, Fri. For this alliance may so happy prove, Rom. O, let us hence; I stand on sudden haste. Fri. Wisely, and slow; they stumble that run fast. SCENE IV.-A Street. Enter BENVOLIO, and MERCUTIO. Mer. Where should this Romeo be ? Came he not home to-night? Ben. Not to his father's; I spoke with his man. Mer. Ah, that same pale hard-hearted girl, that Rosaline, Torments him so, that he will sure run mad. Ben. Tybalt, the kinsman of old Capulet, Hath sent a letter to his father's house. Mer. A challenge, on my life. Ben. Romeo will answer it. Mer. Any man that can write, may answer a letter. [Exeunt. Ben. Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he dares, being dared. Mer. Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead! shot thorough the ear with a love-song; the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow-boy's butt-shaft; And is he a man to encounter Tybalt? Ben. Why, what is Tybalt? Mer. More than prince of cats, I can tell you. O, he is the courageous captain of compliments. He fights as you sing, keeps time, distance, and proportion; rests me his minim rest, one, two, and the third in your bosom; the very butcher of a silk button, a duellist, a gentleman of the very first house,—of the first and second cause: Ah, the immortal passado! the punto reverso! the hay! Ben. The what? Mer. The plague of such antic, lisping, affecting fantasticoes; these new tuners of accents!-Ma foi, a very good blade!—a very tall man!—a very fine girl!-Why, is not this a lamentable thing, grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these pardonnez-moys? Enter ROMEO. Ben. Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo. Mer. Without his roe, like a dried herring. Signior Romeo, bon jour! there's a French salutation for you. Rom. Good-morrow to you both. Mer. You gave us the counterfeit last night. Rom. What counterfeit did I give you ? Mer. The slip, sir, the slip; Can you not receive? Rom. Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was great; and, in such case as mine, a man may strain courtesy. Nurse. Peter! Peter. Anon? Enter Nurse, and PETER. |