For stony umits cannot hold love out: JUL. If they do see thee, they will murder thee. 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 was better ended by their hate, Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love. JUL. By whose direction found'st thou out this place? ROм. 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. JUL. 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. ROм. Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear, JUL. O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, That monthly changes in her circled orb, Lest that thy love prove likewise variable. ROM. What shall I swear by? JUL. Do not swear at all; Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, Which is the god of my idolatry, ROM. If my heart's dear love JUL. Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee, It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden: ROM. O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied? JUL. What satisfaction canst thou have to-night? ROM. The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine. JUL. I gave thee mine before thou didst request it: And yet I would it were to give again. ROM. Wouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love? JUL. But to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have: 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. (NURSE calls within.) Anon, good nurse!--Sweet Montague, be true. ROM. O blessed, blessed night! I am afraid, Too flattering-sweet to be substantial. Re-enter JULIET, above. [Exit. JUL. Three words, dear Romeo, and good night, indeed. If that thy bent of love be honorable Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow By one that I'll procure to come to thee, Where, and what time, thou wilt perform the rite; And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay. And follow thee, my lord, throughout the world. NURSE (within). Madam! JUL. I come, anon:-But if thou mean'st not well, I do beseech thee, NURSE (within). Madam! JUL. By and by, I come : To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief: To-morrow will I send. ROM. So thrive my soul, JUL. A thousand times good night! [Exit. ROM. A thousand times the worse, to want thy light,Love goes toward love, as school-boys from their books; But love from love, toward school with heavy looks. (retiring slowly.) Re-enter JULIET, above. JUL. Hist, Romeo, hist!—O, for a falconer's voice, Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud; And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine ROM. It is my soul that calls upon my name: JUL. Romeo! ROм. My sweet! JUL. At what o'clock to-morrow Shall I send to thee? ROM. At the hour of nine. JUL. I will not fail; 'tis twenty years till then. I have forgot why I did call the back. ROм. Let me stand here till thou remember it. JUL. I shall forget to have thee still stand there, Rememb'ring how I love thy company. ROM. And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget, Forgetting any other house but this. JUL. "Tis almost morning, I would have thee gone: And yet no farther than a wanton's bird; Who lets it hop a little from her hand, Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyvcs, And with a silk thread plucks it back again So loving-jealous of his liberty. ROM. I would I were thy bird. JUL. Sweet, so would I : Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing, Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow, That I shall say-good night, till it be morrow. [Exit. ROм. Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast! 'Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest! [Exit. THE DOMESTIC VIPER. BYRON. [In this matchless piece of vituperation, the poet has exhausted the vocabulary of invective. This should be recited with a tone of sarcasm and bitter loathing. Eyes, lip and tones of voice can be made to add to the effect of the bitter sentences.] BORN in the garret, in the kitchen bred, Who could, ye gods! her next employment guess— She taught the child to read, and taught so well, As many a nameless slander deftly shows: None know-but that high Soul secured the heart, With longing breast and undeluded ear, Foil'd was perversion by that youthful mind, Which Flattery fool'd not-Baseness could not blind, Nor Fortune change--Pride raise-nor Passion bow, Nor Virtue teach austerity-till now. But wanting one sweet weakness-to forgive, But to the theme-now laid aside too long, To make a Pandemonium where she dwells While mingling truth with falsehood-sneers with smiles- A plain blunt show of briefly-spoken seeming, To hid her bloodless heart's soul-harden'd scheming; A lip of lies-a face form'd to conceal; Look on the picture! deem it not o'ercharged- |