Romeo & Juliet Page #5

Romeo!

- Romeo!

- Romeo!

Romeo!

Humors! Madman!

Passion! Lover!

I will conjure thee

by Rosaline's bright eyes,

by her high forehead

and her scarlet lip,

by her fine foot, straight leg,

and quivering thigh!

O Romeo, that she were an open-ass

and thou a poperin pear!

He jests at scars that never felt the wound.

Romeo!

Good night!

I'll to my truckle-bed.

This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep.

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.

O cast it off!

It is my lady, it is my love.

O that she knew she were.

Ay me!

She speaks.

Speak again, bright angel.

Romeo.

O 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.

Shall I hear more,

or shall I speak at this?

'Tis but thy name that is my enemy.

Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.

What's Montague?

It is not 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 word 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 thy name, which is

no part of thee, take all myself.

I take thee at thy word.

Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?

Neither, fair maid, if either thee dislike.

How camest thou hither, tell me,

and wherefore?

The garden walls are high

and hard to climb,

and the place death,

considering who thou art.

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 stop to me!

If they do see thee, they will murder thee.

I have night's cloak

to hide me from their eyes.

But thou love me,

let them find me here.

My life were better ended by their hate

than death prorogued,

wanting of thy love.

Thou knowest

the mask of night is on my face;

else would a maiden blush

bepaint my cheek

for that which thou hast

heard me speak tonight.

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 may'st prove false.

O gentle Romeo, if thou dost love,

pronounce it faithfully.

Lady, by yonder blessed moon I vow,

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