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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 lover's perjuries,
They say, Jove laughs. O, 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 troth, fair Montague, I am too fond,

my 'havior light;

And therefore thou may'st think
But, trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true
Than those that have more coying 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 hath so discoveréd.

Rom. Lady, by yonder blessed moon, I swear,
That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops

Jul. O, 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 heart's dear 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. O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?
Jul. What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?
Rom. The exchange of love's faithful vow for mine.
Jul. I gave thee mine before thou didst require it;
And yet, I would it were to give again.

Rom. Wouldst thou withdraw it ?- for what
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 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 calls within.)

Anon, good nurse! sweet Montague, be true.
Stay but a little, I will come again. (Exit.)
Rom. O blessed, blessed night! I am afeared,
Being in night, all this is but a dream;

Too flattering sweet to be substantial!

(Reënter Juliet as 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 love, throughout the world!

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

(Within: Madam!)

I do beseech thee—(Within: Madam !)— 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. (Exit.)

Rom. A thousand times the worse, to want thy light: Love goes towards love as school-boys from their books; But love from love, towards school, with heavy looks. (Enter Juliet again.)

Jul. Hist! Romeo, hist! O for a falconer's voice, To lure this tassal gentle back again!

Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud;

Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies,

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

Rom. It is my soul 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; 't is twenty years till then. I have 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, 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,
Who lets it hop a little from her hand,
Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,
And with a silk 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 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.)
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 friar's close cell,
His help to crave, and my dear life to tell. (Exit.)

[From the "Merchant of Venice."]


Lorenzo. The moon shines bright. In such a night as this, When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees, And they did make no noise, —in such a night, Troilus, methinks, mounted the Trojan's wall, And sighed his soul towards the Grecian tents, Where Cressid lay that night.

Jessica. In such a night,

Did Thisbe fearfully o'er-trip the dew,
And saw the lion's shadow ere himself,
And ran dismayed away.

Lor. In such a night

Stood Dido, with a willow in her hand,
Upon the wide sea-banks, and waft her love
To come again to Carthage.

Jes. In such a night,

Medea gathered the enchanted herbs

That did renew old son.

Lor. In such a night

Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew,

And, with an unthrift love, did run from Venice

As far as Belmont.

Jes. And in such a night

Did young

Lorenzo swear he loved her well,

Stealing her soul with many vows of faith,

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How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank!
Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music
Creep in our ears; soft stillness and the night
Become the touches of sweet harmony.
Sit, Jessica; look how the floor of heaven

Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold;
There's not the smallest orb that thou behold'st,
But in his motion like an angel sings,

Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubim;
Such harmony is in immortal souls;
But whilst this muddy vesture of decay
Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.
Come, ho! and wake Diana with a hymn;
With sweetest touches pierce your mistress' ear,
And draw her home with music.

Jes. I'm never merry when I hear sweet music.
Lor. The reason is, your spirits are attentive;
For do but note a wild and wanton herd,
Or race of youthful and unhandled colts,
Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud,
Which is the hot condition of their blood;

If they perchance but hear a trumpet sound, air of music touch their ears,



You shall perceive them make a mutual stand,
savage eyes turned to a modest gaze,

By the sweet power of music. Therefore the poet
Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and floods,
Since nought so stockish, hard, and full of rage,
But music for the time doth change his nature.
The man that hath not music in himself,
Nor is not moved by concord of sweet sounds,
Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils;
The motions of his spirit are dull as night,
And his affections dark as Erebus ;
Let no such man be trusted.

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[From "Romeo and Juliet."]


O THEN, I see Queen Mab hath been with you!
She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes

In shape no bigger than an agate-stone

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