Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I'll no longer be a Capulet.

Rom. Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?
Jul. 'Tis but thy name that is my enemy!
What's in a name? That which we call a rose,
By any other name would sınell as sweet;
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title! Romeo, quit thy name;
And for that name, which is no part of thee,
Take all myself.

Rom. I take thee at thy word!

Call me but love, I will forswear my name

And never more be Romeo.

Jul. What man art thou, that, thus bescreened in night

So stumblest on my counsel?

Rom. I know not how to tell thee who I am!

My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,

Because it is an enemy to thee.

Jul. My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words

Of that tongue's uttering, yet I know the sound!

Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?

Rom. Neither, fair saint, if either thee displease.

Jul. How cam'st thou hither ?-tell me-and for what? The orchard walls are high, and hard to climb;

And the place, death, considering who thou art,

If any of my kinsmen find thee here.

Rom. With love's light wings did I o'er-perch 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.

Jul. If they do see thee here, they'll murder thee. Rom. Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye, Than twenty of their swords! look thou but sweet, And I am proof against their enmity.

Jul. I would not, for the world, they saw thee here. By whose direction found'st thou out this place?

Rom. By love, who first did prompt me to inquire;

He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes.

I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far

As that vast shore washed with the furthest sea,

I would adventure for such merchandise.

Jul. Thou know'st, the mask of night is on my face, Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek, For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night. 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; at lovers' perjuries, They say, Jove laughs. Oh, gentle Romeo, If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully! Or, if thou think'st I am too quickly won, I'll frown, and be perverse, and say thee nay, So thou wilt woo! but else, not for the world. In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond: And therefore thou may'st think my 'haviour light! But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true Than those that have more cunning to be strange. I should have been more strange, I must confess But that thou overheard'st, ere I was 'ware, My true love's passion; therefore, pardon me, And not impute this yielding to light love, Which the dark night has so discovered.

Rom. Lady, by yonder blessed moon I vowJul. Oh! 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?

Jul. Do not swear at all;

Or, if thou wilt, swear 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 swear! Although I joy in thee, I have no joy of this contract to-night;

It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden,

Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be,
'Ere one can say-It lightens. Sweet, good night!
This bud of love, by summer'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. Oh, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?
Jul. What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?
Rom. The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.
Jul. I gave thee mine, before thou didst request it:

And yet I would it were to give again.

Rom. Would'st thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love? Jul. But to be frank, and give it thee again.

My bounty is as boundless as the sea,

My love as deep; the more I give to thee,

The more I have; for both are infinite,

I hear some noise within. Dear love, adieu!

Nurse. [Within.] Madam!

Jul. Anon, good Nurse! Sweet Montague, be true.

Stay but a little, I will come again.

[Exit from balcony.]

Rom. Oh! 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.

Jul. Three words, dear Romeo, and good night, indeed If that thy bent of love be honorable,

Thy purpose marriage, send 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 lord, throughout the world.

Nurse [Within.] Madam!

Jul. I come anon! But, if thou mean'st not well, I do beseech thee

Nurse. [Within.] Madam!

Jul. By and by, I come!

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

To-morrow will I send.

Rom. So thrive my soul—

Jul. A thousand times good night!

Rom. A thousand times the worse, to want thy light. [Exit.]

Re-enter JULIET.

Jul. Hist! Romeo, hist! Oh, for a falconer's voice,

To lure this tassel gentle back again!

Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud;

Else would he fear the cave where Echo lies,
And make her airy tongue more hoarse than nine,
With repetition of my Romeo's name.

ROMEO entering.

Rom. It is my love that calls upon my name! How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, Like softest music to attending ears!

Jul. Romeo!

Rom. My sweet!

Jul. At what o'clock to-morrow

Shall I send to thee?

Rom. At the hour of nine.

Jul. I will not fail: 'tis twenty years till then.

I nave forgot why I did call thee back.

Rom. Let me stand here till thou remember it. Jul. I shall forget, to have thee still stand there, Rememb'ring 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;

Who lets it hop a little from her hand,

And with a silk thread plucks it back again,

So loving-jealous of its liberty.

Rom. I would I were thy bird.

Jul. 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 from baleny.

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.

Jack Horner.

"Little Jack Horner sat in a corner,

Eating a Christmas pie;

He put in his thumb

And pulled out a plum,

And said, 'What a great boy am I.'"

Ah! the world has many a Horner,
Who, seated in his corner,

Finds a Christmas pie provided for his thumb,
And cries out with exultation,

When successful exploration

Doth discover the predestined plum.

Little Jack outgrows his tire,

And becometh John, Esquire,

And he finds a monstrous pastry ready-made,
Stuffed with notes and bonds and bales,
With invoices and sales,

And all the mixed ingredients of trade.

And again it is his luck,

To be just in time to pluck,

By a "clever operation," from the pie

An unexpected plum ;

So he glorifies his thumb,

And says, proudly, "What a mighty man am I."

Or, perchance, to science turning,

And, with weary labor, learning

All the formulas that oppress her,
For the fruit of others baking,
So a fresh diploma taking,

Comes he forth a full accredited professor.