And bakes the elf-locks* in foul sluttish hairs, Which are the children of an idle brain, O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! Capulet's Favourable Opinion of Romeo. Romeo and Juliet at the Ball. ROMEO. If I profane with my unworthy hand * i.e., Fairy locks, locks of hair clotted and tangled in the night. My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. JULIET. Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, Which mannerly devotion shows in this: For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss. ROMEO. Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too? JULIET. Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer. ROMEO. O then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair. JULIET. Saints do not move, though grant sake. for prayers' ROMEO. Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take. Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purg'd. JULIET. Then have my lips the sin that they have took. ROMEO. Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urg'd! Give me my sin again. JULIET. You kiss by the book. ACT II. The Garden Scene. ROMEO. He jests at scars that never felt a wound.— 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: She speaks, yet she says nothing; what of that? I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks: O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek. JULIET. ROMEO. Ah me! She speaks: O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art Unto the white up-turned wond'ring eyes JULIET. O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father, and refuse thy name: Or, if thou wilt not, be but my sworn love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet. ROMEO. Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this? JULIET. 'Tis but thy name that is my enemy. Thou art thyself though, not a Montague. * Juliet estimates him for his own good qualities, regardless of her dislike for his family. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, ROMEO. I take thee at thy word: Call me but love, and I'll be new baptiz'd; Henceforth I never will be Romeo. JULIET. What man art thou, that, thus bescreen'd in night, So stumblest on my counsel ? ROMEO. By a name I know not how to tell thee who I am: Had I it written, I would tear the word. JULIET. 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 ? ROMEO. Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike. JULIET. How camest thou hither, tell me? and wherefore? The orchard walls are high, and hard to climb ; If any of my kinsmen find thee here. ROMEO. With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls; For stony limits cannot hold love out : * Possesses. † Put aside. And what love can do, that dares love attempt, JULIET. If they do see thee, they will murder thee. ROMEO. Alack! there lies more peril in thine eye Than twenty of their swords; look thou but sweet, And I am proof against their enmity. JULIET. I would not for the world they saw thee here. ROMEO. I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight; And, but thou love me,* let them find me here: JULIET. By whose direction found'st thou out this place? ROMEO. 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. JULIET. 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. 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 truth, fair Montague, I am too fond; * Except you love me. + False delicacy. |