Every Girl's Library, Volume 8 of 10: A Collection of Appropriate and Instructive Reading for Girls of All Ages from the Best Authors of All Time
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Every Girl's Library, Volume 8 of 10: A Collection of Appropriate and Instructive Reading for Girls of All Ages from the Best Authors of All Time
Literature -- Collections
_Jul._ 'Tis but thy name that is my enemy;
Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
What's in a name? that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet:
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,
And for that name which is no part of thee
Take all myself.
_Rom._ I take thee at thy word:
Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized;
Henceforth I never will be Romeo.
_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,
Because it is an enemy to thee;
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 camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?
The orchard walls are high and hard to climb,
And the place death, considering who thou art,
If any of my kinsmen find thee here.
_Rom._ With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls;
For stony limits cannot hold love out,
And what love can do that dares love attempt;
Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me.
_Jul._ If they do see thee, they will murder thee.
_Rom._ Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye
Than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet,
And I am proof against their enmity.
_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 farthest sea,
I would adventure for such merchandise.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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