Nurse. Madam, your mother craves a word with you.
Rom. What is her mother?

Nurfe. Marry, batchelor,

Her mother is the Lady of the house,
And a good Lady, and a wife and virtuous.
I nurs'd her daughter that you talk withal
I tell you, he that can lay hold of her
Shall have the chink.

Rom. Is fhe a Capulet?

[To ber Nurft.

O dear account! my life is my foe's debt.
Ben. Away, be gone, the fport is at the best.
Rom. Ay, fo I fear, the more is my unreft.
Cap. Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone,
We have a trifling foolish banquet towards.
Is it e'en fo? why then, I thank you all.
I thank you, honeft gentlemen, good night :
More torches here come on, then let's to bed,
Ah, firrah, by my fay it waxes late.

I'll to my reft.

[Exeunt Jul. Come hither, nurfe. What is yon gentleman ? Nurfe. The fon and heir of old Tiberio.

Jul. What's he that now is going out of door?
Nurfe. That as I think is young Petruchio.

Jul. What's he that follows here, that would not dance?
Nurfe. I know not.

Jul. Go afk his name. If he be married,

My grave is like to be my wedding bed.

Nurfe. His name is Romeo, and a Mountague,

The only fon of your great enemy.

Jul. My only love fprung from my only hate!
Too early feen, unknown; and known too late ;
Prodigious birth of love it is to me,

That I muft love a loathed enemy.
Nurfe. What's this? what's this?

Thus from my lips, by thine my fin is purg'd.
Jul. Then have my lips the fin that late they took,
Rom. Sin from my lips! O trefpais fweetly urg'd:

Cive me my fin again.

Jul. You kiss by th' book.
Naze. Madam, &

[Kifing ber.

Jul. A rhime I learn'd e'en now

Of one I danc'd withal.

Nurfe. Anon, anon`

[One calls within, Juliet.

Come, let's away, the ftrangers all are gone.

Enter Chorus,

[Exeunt,

Cho. Now old defire doth on his death-bed lye,
And young affection gapes to be his heir:
That Fair for which love groan'd fore and would die,
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 fuppos'd he must complain,

And the fteal love's fweet bait from fearful hooks. Being held a foe, he may not have access

To breathe fuch vows as lovers use to swear;
And fhe as much in love, her means much less
To meet her new beloved any where:

But paffion lends them power, time means to meet,
Temp'ring extremities with extream sweet.

ACT

Rom.

CAN

The STREET.

Enter Romeo alone.

[Exit,

AN I go forward when my heart is here?,
Turn back, dull earth, and find thy center out.

Enter Benvolio with Mercutio.

Ben. Romeo, my coufin Romeo!

Mer. He is wife,

And, on my life, hath ftol'n him home to bed.

[Exit.

Ben. He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall.

Call, good Mercutio.

Mer. Nay, I'll conjure too.

Why, Romeo! humours! madman! paffion! lover!
Appear thou in the likeness of a Sigh,

Speak but one Rhime, and I am fatisfied.
Cry but Ab me! couple but love and dove,
Speak to my goffip Venus one fair word,
One nick-name to her pur-blind fon and heir,
VOLT IX,

C

(Young

(Young Abraham* Cupid, he that shot so true,
When King Cophetua lov'd the beggar-maid-)
He heareth not, he ftirreth not, he moves not,
The ape is dead, and I must conjure him.
I conjure thee by Rofaline's bright eyes,
By her high fore-head, and her fcarlet lip,
By her fine foot, ftraight leg, and quivering thigh,
And the demeans that there adjacent lye,
That in thy likeness thou appear to us.

Ben. An if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him.
Mer. This cannot anger him: 'twould anger hing
To raise a spirit in his miftrefs' circle,

Of fome ftrange nature, letting it there ftand
'Till she had laid it, and conjur'd it down;
That were fome fpight. My invocation is
Honeft and fair, and in his miftrefs' name
I conjure only but to raise him.

up

Ben. Come, he hath hid himself among these trees, To be conforted with the hum'rous night:

Blind is his love, and beft befits the dark,

Mer. If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.
Now will he fit under a medlar-tree,

And with his mistrels were that kind of fruit,
Which 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, fhall we go?

Ben. Go then, for 'tis in vain

To feek him here that means not to be found.

SCENE II. Capulet's Garden.
Enter Romeo.

Rom. He jefts at fears that never felt a wound-
But foft! what light thro' yonder window breaks?

It is the eaft, and Juliet is the fun!

[Exeunt.

[Juliet appears above at a window.

Arife, fair fun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already fick and pale with grief

This, probably, was a name fupidly given to Cupid in the old ballad here referr'd to of King Gopherus and the beggar maid.

That

That thou, her maid, art far more fair than the.
Be not her maid fince the is envious:

Her veftal livery is but fick and green,

And none but fools do wear it; caft it off.
She fpeaks, yet fhe says nothing; what of that?
Her eye difcourfes, I will anfwer it--
I am too bold, 'tis not to me fhe speaks:
Two of the faireft ftars of all the heav'n,
Having fome bufinefs, do intreat her eyes
To twinkle in their fpheres 'till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would fhame thofe ftars,
As day-light doth a lamp; her eyes in heav'n
Would through the airy region ftream fo bright,
That birds would fing, and think it were not night
See how the leans her cheek upon her hand!
O that were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek!
Jul. Ah me!

Rom. She fpeaks.

Oh, fpeak again, bright angel, for thou art
As glorious to this night, being o'er my head,
As is a winged meffenger from heav'n,
Unto the white upturned wondring eyes
Of mortals, that fall back to gaze on him,
When he beftrides the lazy-pacing clouds,

And fails upon the bofom 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 fworn my love,

And I'll no longer be a Capulet.

Rom. Shall I hear more, or shall I fpeak at this? [Afide. Jul. 'Tis but thy name that is my enemy: Thou'rt not thy felf fo, though a Mountague, What's Mountague ? it is not hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face nor any other part. What's in a name that which we call a rofe, By any other name would smell as fweet. So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, Retain that dear perfection which he owes,

С 2

Without

Without that title; Romeo, quit thy name,
And for that name, which is no part of thee,
Take all my felf.

Rom. I take thee at thy word:

Call me but love, and I'll be new baptiz'd,
Henceforth I never will be Romeo.

Jul. What man art thou, that thus befcreen'd in night So ftumbleft on my counsel?

Rom. By a name

I know not how to tell thee who I am:

My name, dear faint, is hateful to my self,
Because 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 found. Art thou not Romeo, and a Mountague?

Rom. Neither, fair faint, if either thee dislike. Jul. How cam'ft thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? The orchard walls are high, and hard to climb, And the place death, confidering who thou art, If any of my kinfmen find thee here.

Rom. With love's light wings did I o'er-perch thefe walls, For ftony limits cannot hold love out,

And what love can do, that dares love attempt:
Therefore thy kinfmen are no ftop to me.

Jul. If they do fee thee, they will murder thee.
Rom. Alack there lyes more peril in thine eye,
Than twenty of their fwords; look thou but sweet,
And I am proof against their enmity.

Jul. I would not for the world they faw thee here. Rom. I have night's cloak to hide me from their eyes, 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 whofe direction found'st thou out this place? Rom. By love, that first did prompt me to inquire; He lent me counfel, and I lent him eyes:

I am no pilot, yet wert thou as far

As that vaft fhore wafh'd with the farthest fea,
I would adventure for fuch merchandise..

Jul.