If thou doft love, pronounce it faithfully;

Or if you think, I am too quickly won,

I'll frown and be perverfe, and say thee NAY,
So thou wilt woo; but elfe, not for the world.
In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond,

And therefore thou may'st think my 'haviour light;
But truft me, gentleman, I'll prove more true,
+ Than those that have more coying to be strange.
I should have been more ftrange, I must confefs,
But that thou over-heard'st, ere I was 'ware,
My true love's paffion; therefore pardon me,
And not impute this yielding to light love,
Which the dark night hath fo discovered.

ROм. Lady, by yonder bleffed moon I vow, That tips with filver all these fruit-tree tops————— JUL. Ofwear not by the moon, th' inconftant moon, That monthly changes in her circled orb; Left that thy love prove likewife variable. ROM. What shall I fwear by ?

JUL. Do not fwear at all;

Or, if thou wilt, fwear by thy gracious self,
Which is the God of my idolatry,

And I'll believe thee.

ROM. If my true heart's love

JUL. Well, do not fwear. Although I joy in thee, I have no joy of this contract to-night;

It is too rash, too unadvis'd, too fudden

Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be,
Ere one can fay, it lightens. Sweet, good night.
This bud of love by fummer's ripening breath

May prove a beauteous flower, when next we meet.
Good night, good night- -as sweet repose and rest

Come to thy heart, as that within my breast!

ROM. O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied? JUL. What fatisfaction can'ft thou have to night ? ROM. Th' exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine. Jud. I gave thee mine before thou didst request it: And yet I would, it were to give again.

ROM. Wouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love?
JUL. But to be frank, and give it thee again.

And yet I wish but for the thing I have;
My bounty is as boundless as the fea,
My love as deep, the more I give to thee,
The more I have, for both are infinite.

I hear fome noife within. Dear love, adieu

[Nurfe calls within.

Anon, good nurse. Sweet Montague, be true.
Stay but a little, I will come again.

ROM. O bleffed, blessed night! I am afraid,
Being in night, all this is but a dream;

Too flattering-fweet to be fubftantial.

Re-enter Juliet above.

[Exit.

JUL. Three words, dear Romeo, and good night, indeed.

If that thy bent of love be honourable

Thy purpose marriage, fend me word to-morrow,
By one that I'll procure to come to thee,

Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite;
And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay,
And follow thee, my love, throughout the world.

[Within Madam.

I come, anon-but if thou mean'ft not well,

I do beseech thee—[Within: Madam.] By and by I

come

To cease thy fuit, and leave me to my grief.

To-morrow will I fend.

ROM. So thrive my soul,

JUL. A thousand times, good night.

[Exit.

ROM. A thousand times the worfe, to want thy light, Loves goes tow'rd love, as school-boys from their bocks; But love from love, tow'rds school with heavy looks.

Enter Juliet again.

JUL. Hift! Romeo, hift! O for a falkner's voice,
To lure this taffel gentle back again.

Bondage is hoarfe, and may not speak aloud;

Elfe would I tear the cave where echo lies,

And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine,
With repetition of my Romeo.

ROM. It is my love that calls upon my name,
How filver-fweet found lovers' tongues by night,
Like foftest musick to attending ears!

JUL. Romeo!

Rom. My fweet!

JUL. At what o'clock to-morrow

Shall I fend to thee?

Rom. By the hour of nine.

JUL. I will not fail, 'tis twenty years till then.

I have forgot why I did call thee back.

Roм. Let me ftand here 'till thou remember it.
JUL. I fhall forget, to have thee still stand there;
Remembering how I love thy company.

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,
And yet no further than a wanton's bird, -

That lets it hop a little from her hand,
Like a poor prifoner in his twisted gyves,
And with a filk thread plucks it back again,
So loving-jealous of his liberty.

ROM. I would I were thy bird.

JUL. Sweet, so would I;

Yet I fhould kill thee with much cherishing.

Good night, good night. Parting is fuch fweet forrow,

That I fhall fay good night, 'till it be morrow,

[Exit. ROM. Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast! 'Would I were fleep and peace, so sweet to reft! Hence will I to my ghoftly Friar's cell,

His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell.

[Exit.

SCENE, III. Changes to a Monaftery.

Enter Friar Lawrence, with a basket.

FRI. The grey-ey'd morn smiles on the frowning night, Check'ring the eastern clouds with ftreaks of light: And darkness flecker'd, like a drunkard, reels From forth day's path, and Titan's burning wheels. Now ere the fun advance his burning eye, The day to chear, and night's dank dew to dry, I must fill up this ofier-cage of ours With baleful weeds, and precious-juiced flowers. The earth, that's nature's mother, is her tomb; What is her burying grave, that is her womb; And from her womb children of divers kind We fucking on her natural bofom find: Many for many virtues excellent

None but for fome, and yet all different.

O, mickle is the powerful grace, that lies

In plants, herbs, ftones, and their true qualities.
Nor nought fo vile, that on the earth doth live,
But to the earth fome fpecial good doth give,

Nor aught fo good, but, ftrain'd from that fair use,
Revolts from true birth, ftumbling on abuse.
Virtue itself turns vice, being mifapplied;
And vice fometime by action's dignify'd.
Within the infant rind of this fmall flower
Poifon hath refidence, and med'cine power,

For this being fmelt, with that fenfe chears each part,
Being tafted, flays all fenfes with the heart.

Two fuch opposed foes encamp them ftill

In man, as well as herbs. grace and rude will:
And where the worfer is predominant,

Full-foon the canker death eats up that plant.

Enter Romeo.

ROM. Good morrow, father.

FRI. Benedicite!

What early tongue fo fweet, faluteth me?
Young fon, it argues a diftemper'd head
So foon to bid good-morrow to thy bed:
Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye,
And, where care lodgeth, fleep will never lie;
But where unbruised youth with unstuft brain,
Doth couch his limbs, there golden fleep doth reign;
Therefore thy earliness doth me affure,

Thou art up-rouz'd by fome diftemp'rature;
Or if not fo, then here I hit it right,

Our Romeo hath not been in bed to-night.

ROM. That laft is true, the fweeter reft was mine.
FRI. God pardon fin! waft thou with Rosaline?