ACT II. SCENE I.-An open place, adjoining CAPULET'S garden. Enter ROMEO. Rom. Can I go forward, when my heart is here? Turn back, dull earth, and find thy center out. [He climbs the wall, and leaps down within it. Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO. Ben. Romeo! my cousin Romeo! Mer. He is wise; And, on my life, hath stolen him home to bed. Ben. He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall: Call, good Mercutio. Mer. Nay, I'll conjure too.— Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover! Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied; I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes, By her high forehead, and her scarlet lip, By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh, 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 him To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle Of some strange nature, letting it there stand, That were some spite: my invocation Is fair and honest, and, in his mistress' name, 1 conjure only but to raise up him. Ben. Come, he hath hid himself among those trees, To be consorted with the humorous night: Blind is his love, and best befits the dark. Mer. If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark. Now will he sit under a medlar tree, And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit, As maids call medlars, when they laugh alone.- Ben. Go then; for 'tis in vain To seek him here, that means not to be found. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-CAPULET'S Garden. Enter ROMEO. Rom. He jests at scars, that never felt a wound.— [JULIET appears above, at a window. But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks! It is the east, and Juliet is the sun!— Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou her maid art far more fair than she: Be not her maid, since she is envious; Her vestal livery is but sick and green, And none but fools do wear it; cast it off. It is my lady; O, it is my love: O, that she knew she were! She speaks, yet she says nothing; What of that? I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks: That I might touch that cheek! Jul. Ah me! Rom. She speaks : O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art And sails upon the bosom 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 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;— Belonging to a man. O, be some other name! Rom. I take thee at thy word: Call me but love, and I'll be new baptiz'd; [Aside. Jul. What man art thou, that, thus bescreen'd in night, So stumblest on my counsel? Rom. By a name I know not how to tell thee who I am: My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, Had I it written, I would tear the word. Jul. My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound; Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague? Rom. Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike. Jul. How cam'st thou hither, tell me? and wherefore? The orchard walls are high, and hard to climb; And the place death, considering who thou art, 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; Jul. If they do see thee, they will murder thee. Jul. I would not for the world, they saw thee here. Rom. I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight; 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 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 wash'd 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. What I have spoke; But farewell compliment! |