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And young affection gapes to be his heir;
With tender Juliet match’d, is now not fair. Now Romeo is belov’d, and loves again,
Alike bewitched by the charm of looks; But to his foe suppos'd he must complain,
And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks: Being held a foe, he may not have access
To breathé such vows as loyers use to swear; And she as much in love, her means much less To meet her new-beloved
where: But passion lends them power, time means to meet, Temp'ring extremities with extreme sweet. [Exit.
ACT II. SCENE I.
AN OPEN PLACE, ADJOINING CAPULET'S
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!
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.
Cry but-Ah me! couple but-love and dove;
By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh,
Ben. An if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him.
' To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle Of some strange nature, letting it there stand Till she had laid it, and conjur'd it down; That were some spite: my invocation Is fair and honest, and, in his mistress' name, I 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. Romeo, good night;-I'll to my truckle-bed ; This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep: Come, shall we go? Ben.
Go, then; for 'tis in vain To seek him here, that means not to be found.
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!-
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:
As daylight doth a lamp; her eye in heaven Would through the airy region stream so bright, That birds would sing, and think it were not night.
See, how she leans her.cheek upon her hand! ·
, And I'll no longer be a Capulet: Rom. Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?
I take thee at thy word: