Jal. Thou know't the mask of night is on my face, Elle would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek For that which thou haft heard me speak to-night. Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny What I have fpoke

but farewel compliment : Doft thou love me? I know thou wilt fay, ay, And I will take thy word yet if thou swear'st, Thou may't prove falfe at lovers perjuries They fay fove laughs. On gentle Romeo, If thou doft love, pronounce it faithfully: Or if thou think I am too quickly won, I'll frown and be perverfe, and fay thee nay, So thou wilt wooe: but elle not for the world. In truth, fair Mountague, I am too fond; And therefore thou may'ft think my 'haviour light i But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true, Than those that have more cunning to be ftrange, I should have been more ftrange, I must confefs, But that thou over-heard'ft, 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 so discovered. Rom. Lady, by yonder bleffed moon I vow, That tips with filver all these fruit-tree tops Jul. O fwear not by the moon, th' inconstant moon, That monthly changes in her circled orb ; Left that thy love prove likewise variable. Rom. What fhall I swear by ?

Jul. Do not fwear at all;

Or if thou wilt, fwear by thy gracious felf,
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 rafh, too unadvis'd, too fudden,
Too like the lightning which doth ceafe to be

Ere one can fay, It lightensfweet, 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 fweet repofe and reft
Come to thy heart, as that within my breast!

Rom. O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?
Jul. What fatisfaction canft thou have to-night?
Rom. Th' 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. Wouldft 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.

[Exit.

Sweet Mountague, be true:

Stay but a little, I will come again.

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

Too flattering-fweet to be fubftantial.

Re-enter Juliet above.

ful. 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 lord, throughout the world.

[Within: Madam.

I come, anon →→ but if thou mean'ft not well,
I do befeech thee

come --

[Within: Madam.] By and by I

To cease thy fuit, and leave me to my grief.
To-morrow will I fend.

Rom. So thrive my foul !

Ful. A thousand times good night!

[Exit.

Rom. A thousand times the worse to want thy light. Love goes tow'rd love, as school-boys from their books; But love from love, towards fchool with heavy looks.

Enter

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 fpeak aloud;
Elfe would I tear the cave where Echo lyes,

And make her airy tongue more hoarfe 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 fofteft mufick to attending ears!

Jul. Romeo!

Rom. My fweet!

Jul. At what a 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.

Rom. Let me ftand here till thou remember it. Fut. I fhall forget, to have thee ftill ftand there, Remembring how I love thy company.

Rom. And I'll ftill ftay to have thee ftill forget, Forgetting any other home but this.

Jul. 'Tis almoft 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 twifted 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, fo 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 breaft!

Would I were fleep and peace, fo fweet to reft!
Hence will I to my ghoftly friar's close cell,
His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell..

[Exit.

SCENE

SCENE III. A Monaftery.

Enter Friar Lawrence, with a basket.

Fri. The grey-ey'd morn fmiles 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-way, made by Titan's wheels.
Now ere the fun advance his burning eye,
The day to cheer, and night's dank dew to dry,
I muft fill up this offer 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 bosom find :
Many for many virtues excellent,

None but for fome, and yet all different.
O mickle is the powerful grace, that lyes
In plants, herbs, ftones, and their true qualities.
For nought fo vile, that on the earth doth live,
But to't the earth fome fpecial good doth give:
Nor ought fo good but, ftrain'd from that fair use,
Revolts from's true birth ftumbling on abuse.
Virtue it felf turns vice, being mifapplied,
And vice fometime by action's dignified.
Within the infant rind of this frhall flower
Poifon hath refidence, and medicine power:
For this, being fmelt, with that fenfe chears each part;
Being tafted, flays all fenfes with the heart.
Two fuch oppofed foes encamp them still

In man, as well as herbs; Grace, and rude Will:
And where the worfer is predominant,

Full-foon the canker death eat, up that plant.

Enter Romeo.

Rem. Good-morrow, father!

Fri. Benedicite!

What early tongue fo fweet falutes mine ear ?
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 lye ;

But

But where unbruifed youth with unftuft brain

Doth couch his limbs, there golden fleep doth reign.
Therefore thy earliness doth me affure,

Thou art up-rous'd by fome diftemp'rature;
Or if not fo, then here I hit it right,
Our Romeo hath not been in bed to-night.

Rem. That laft is true, the fweeter reft was mine.
Fri. God pardon fin! waft thou with Rofaline?
Rom. With Rofaline, my ghoftly father? no.
I have forgot that name, and that name's woe.
Fri. That's my good fon : but where haft thou been then?
Rom. I tell thee ere thou afk it me again;

I have been feafting with mine enemy,
Where on a fudden one hath wounded me,
That's by me wounded; both our remedies
Within thy help and holy phyfick lyes;
I bear no hatred, bleffed man, for lo
My interceffion likewife fteads my foe.

Fri. Be plain, good fon, and homely in thy drift ;
Riddling confeffion finds but riddling fhrift.

Rom. Then plainly know my heart's dear love is fet On the fair daughter of rich Capulet;

As mine on hers, fo hers is fet on mine,

And all combin'd, fave what thou must combine
By holy marriage: When, and where, and how
We met, we woo'd, and made exchange of vow,
I'll tell thee as we pafs; but this I pray,
That thou confent to marry us to-day.

Fri. Holy faint Francis, what a change is here!
Is Rofaline, whom thou didst love fo dear,
So foon forfaken? young mens love then lyes
Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.
Jefu Maria! what a deal of brine
Hath wafht thy fallow cheeks for Rofaline?
How much falt water thrown away in waste,
To feafon love, that of it doth not tafte?
The fun not yet thy fighs from heaven clears,
Thy old groans ring yet in my ancient ears;
Lo here upon thy cheek the ftain doth fit
Of an old tear that is not wafh'd off yet.

If