"_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, 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 truth, fair Montague, I am too fond; And therefore thou may'st think my conduct light; But, trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true Than those that have more cunning to be strange. I should have been more shy, I must confess, But that thou overheard'st, ere I was aware, My true love's passion; therefore, pardon me; And not impute this yielding to light love, Which the dark night hath so discovered, 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!"_ The lovers part, promising eternal love and marriage "to-morrow" at the cell of good Friar Laurence, the confessor of the fair Juliet. The friar, priest, preacher and bishop have ever been great matrimonial matchmakers, and when "Love's young dream" is foiled or withered by parental tyranny, these velvet-handed philosophers find a way to tie the hymeneal knot, even in personal and legal defiance of cruel, social dictation. Friar Laurence, in contemplation of tying love-knots soliloquizes in the following lofty lines: