Romeo and Juliet: Act II Scene II
William Shakespear | Wednesday, November 1, 2017 -- 11:36 PM EDT
***Uploaded by CitizensDawn and Last updated on Sunday, November 5, 2017 -- 10:34 PM EST***

The Same CAPULET’S Orchard

Enter ROMEO.\r\n Rom. He jests at scars, that never felt a wound. [JULIET appears above at a window. \r\nBut, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? \r\nIt is the east, and Juliet is the sun! 5\r\nArise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, \r\nWho is already sick and pale with grief, \r\nThat thou her maid art far more fair than she: \r\nBe not her maid, since she is envious; \r\nHer vestal livery is but sick and green, 10\r\nAnd none but fools do wear it; cast it off. \r\nIt is my lady; O! it is my love: \r\nO! that she knew she were. \r\nShe speaks, yet she says nothing: what of that? \r\nHer eye discourses; I will answer it. 15\r\nI am too bold, ’tis not to me she speaks: \r\nTwo of the fairest stars in all the heaven, \r\nHaving some business, do entreat her eyes \r\nTo twinkle in their spheres till they return. \r\nWhat if her eyes were there, they in her head? 20\r\nThe brightness of her cheek would shame those stars \r\nAs daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven \r\nWould through the airy region stream so bright \r\nThat birds would sing and think it were not night. \r\nSee! how she leans her cheek upon her hand: 25\r\nO! that I were a glove upon that hand, \r\nThat I might touch that cheek. \r\n Jul. Ay me! \r\n Rom. She speaks: \r\nO! speak again, bright angel; for thou art 30\r\nAs glorious to this night, being o’er my head, \r\nAs is a winged messenger of heaven \r\nUnto the white-upturned wond’ring eyes \r\nOf mortals, that fall back to gaze on him \r\nWhen he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds, 35\r\nAnd sails upon the bosom of the air. \r\n Jul. O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? \r\nDeny thy father, and refuse thy name; \r\nOr, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, \r\nAnd I’ll no longer be a Capulet. 40\r\n Rom. [Aside.] Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this? \r\n Jul. ’Tis but thy name that is my enemy; \r\nThou art thyself though, not a Montague. \r\nWhat’s Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, \r\nNor arm, nor face, nor any other part 45\r\nBelonging to a man. O! be some other name: \r\nWhat’s in a name? that which we call a rose \r\nBy any other name would smell as sweet; \r\nSo Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d, \r\nRetain that dear perfection which he owes 50\r\nWithout that title. Romeo, doff thy name; \r\nAnd for that name, which is no part of thee, \r\nTake all myself. \r\n Rom. I take thee at thy word. \r\nCall me but love, and I’ll be new baptiz’d; 55\r\nHenceforth I never will be Romeo. \r\n Jul. What man art thou, that, thus be-screen’d in night, \r\nSo stumblest on my counsel? \r\n Rom. By a name \r\nI know not how to tell thee who I am: 60\r\nMy name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, \r\nBecause it is an enemy to thee: \r\nHad I it written, I would tear the word. \r\n Jul. My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words \r\nOf that tongue’s uttering, yet I know the sound: 65\r\nArt thou not Romeo, and a Montague? \r\n Rom. Neither, fair maid, if either thee dislike. \r\n Jul. How cam’st thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? \r\nThe orchard walls are high and hard to climb, \r\nAnd the place death, considering who thou art, 70\r\nIf any of my kinsmen find thee here. \r\n Rom. With love’s light wings did I o’erperch these walls; \r\nFor stony limits cannot hold love out, \r\nAnd what love can do that dares love attempt; \r\nTherefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me. 75\r\n Jul. If they do see thee they will murder thee. \r\n Rom. Alack! there lies more peril in thine eye \r\nThan twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet, \r\nAnd I am proof against their enmity. \r\n Jul. I would not for the world they saw thee here. 80\r\n Rom. I have night’s cloak to hide me from their eyes; \r\nAnd but thou love me, let them find me here; \r\nMy life were better ended by their hate, \r\nThan death prorogued, wanting of thy love. \r\n Jul. By whose direction found’st thou out this place? 85\r\n Rom. By Love, that first did prompt me to inquire; \r\nHe lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes. \r\nI am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far \r\nAs that vast shore wash’d with the furthest sea, \r\nI would adventure for such merchandise. 90\r\n Jul. Thou know’st the mask of night is on my face, \r\nElse would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek \r\nFor that which thou hast heard me speak to-night. \r\nFain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny \r\nWhat I have spoke: but farewell compliment! 95\r\nDost thou love me? I know thou wilt say ‘Ay;’ \r\nAnd I will take thy word; yet, if thou swear’st, \r\nThou mayst prove false; at lovers’ perjuries, \r\nThey say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo! \r\nIf thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully: 100\r\nOr if thou think’st I am too quickly won, \r\nI’ll frown and be perverse and say thee nay, \r\nSo thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world. \r\nIn truth, fair Montague, I am too fond, \r\nAnd therefore thou mayst think my haviour light: 105\r\nBut trust me, gentleman, I’ll prove more true \r\nThan those that have more cunning to be strange. \r\nI should have been more strange, I must confess, \r\nBut that thou over-heard’st, ere I was ’ware, \r\nMy true love’s passion: therefore pardon me, 110\r\nAnd not impute this yielding to light love, \r\nWhich the dark night hath so discovered. \r\n Rom. Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear \r\nThat tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops,— \r\n Jul. O! swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, 115\r\nThat monthly changes in her circled orb, \r\nLest that thy love prove likewise variable. \r\n Rom. What shall I swear by? \r\n Jul. Do not swear at all; \r\nOr, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, 120\r\nWhich is the god of my idolatry, \r\nAnd I’ll believe thee. \r\n Rom. If my heart’s dear love— \r\n Jul. Well, do not swear. Although I joy in thee, \r\nI have no joy of this contract to-night: 125\r\nIt is too rash, too unadvis’d, too sudden; \r\nToo like the lightning, which doth cease to be \r\nEre one can say it lightens. Sweet, good-night! \r\nThis bud of love, by summer’s ripening breath, \r\nMay prove a beauteous flower when next we meet. 130\r\nGood-night, good-night! as sweet repose and rest \r\nCome to thy heart as that within my breast! \r\n Rom. O! wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied? \r\n Jul. What satisfaction canst thou have to-night? \r\n Rom. The exchange of thy love’s faithful vow for mine. 135\r\n Jul. I gave thee mine before thou didst request it; \r\nAnd yet I would it were to give again. \r\n Rom. Wouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love? \r\n Jul. But to be frank, and give it thee again. \r\nAnd yet I wish but for the thing I have: 140\r\nMy bounty is as boundless as the sea, \r\nMy love as deep; the more I give to thee, \r\nThe more I have, for both are infinite. [Nurse calls within. \r\nI hear some noise within; dear love, adieu! \r\nAnon, good nurse! Sweet Montague, be true. 145\r\nStay but a little, I will come again. [Exit above. \r\n Rom. O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard, \r\nBeing in night, all this is but a dream, \r\nToo flattering-sweet to be substantial. \r\n \r\nRe-enter JULIET, above.\r\n 150\r\n Jul. Three words, dear Romeo, and goodnight indeed. \r\nIf that thy bent of love be honourable, \r\nThy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow, \r\nBy one that I’ll procure to come to thee, \r\nWhere, and what time, thou wilt perform the rite; 155\r\nAnd all my fortunes at thy foot I’ll lay, \r\nAnd follow thee my lord throughout the world. \r\n Nurse. [Within.] Madam! \r\n Jul. I come, anon.—But if thou mean’st not well, \r\nI do beseech thee,— 160\r\n Nurse. [Within.] Madam! \r\n Jul. By and by; I come:— \r\nTo cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief: \r\nTo-morrow will I send. \r\n Rom. So thrive my soul,— 165\r\n Jul. A thousand times good-night! [Exit above. \r\n Rom. A thousand times the worse, to want thy light. \r\nLove goes toward love, as schoolboys from their books; \r\nBut love from love, toward school with heavy looks. [Retiring. \r\n \r\nRe-enter JULIET, above.\r\n 170\r\n Jul. Hist! Romeo, hist! O! for a falconer’s voice, \r\nTo lure this tassel-gentle back again. \r\nBondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud, \r\nElse would I tear the cave where Echo lies, \r\nAnd make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine, 175\r\nWith repetition of my Romeo’s name. \r\n Rom. It is my soul that calls upon my name: \r\nHow silver-sweet sound lovers’ tongues by night, \r\nLike softest music to attending ears! \r\n Jul. Romeo! 180\r\n Rom. My dear! \r\n Jul. At what o’clock to-morrow \r\nShall I send to thee? \r\n Rom. At the hour of nine. \r\n Jul. I will not fail; ’tis twenty years till then. 185\r\nI have forgot why I did call thee back. \r\n Rom. Let me stand here till thou remember it. \r\n Jul. I shall forget, to have thee still stand there, \r\nRemembering how I love thy company. \r\n Rom. And I’ll still stay, to have thee still forget, 190\r\nForgetting any other home but this. \r\n Jul. ’Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone; \r\nAnd yet no further than a wanton’s bird, \r\nWho lets it hop a little from her hand, \r\nLike a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves, 195\r\nAnd with a silk thread plucks it back again, \r\nSo loving-jealous of his liberty. \r\n Rom. I would I were thy bird. \r\n Jul. Sweet, so would I: \r\nYet I should kill thee with much cherishing. 200\r\nGood-night, good-night! parting is such sweet sorrow \r\nThat I shall say good-night till it be morrow. [Exit. \r\n Rom. Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast! \r\nWould I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest! \r\nHence will I to my ghostly father’s cell, 205\r\nHis help to crave, and my dear hap to tell. [Exit.

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