O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art As glorious to this night, being o’er my head,As is a winged messenger of heaven Unto the white-upturned wond’ring eyesOf mortals that fall back to gaze on him When he bestrides the lazy puffing clouds And sails upon the bosom of the air
O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?Deny thy father and refuse thy name,Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,And I’ll no longer be a Capulet.
Call me but love, and I’ll be new baptized.Henceforth I never will be Romeo.
What man art thou that, thus bescreened in night,So stumblest on my counsel?
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.
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 stop to me.
If they do see thee, they will murder thee
Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye Than twenty of their swords. Look thou but sweet,And I am proof against their enmity.
What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?
Th’ exchange of thy love’s faithful vow for mine.
Hist, Romeo, hist! O, for a falc’ner’s voice To lure this tassel-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!” What o’clock tomorrow Shall I send to thee?
By the hour of nine.
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