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For stony umits 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 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.
Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny
What I have spoke; but farewell compliment!
Dost love me? I know thou wilt say-Ay;
And I will take thy word; yet, if thou swear'st
Thou mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries,
They say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,
If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully:
Or if you 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 mayst think my haviour light;
But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true
Than those that have more cunning to be strange,
I should have been more strange, I must confess,
But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware,
My true love's passion; therefore pardon me;
And not impute this yielding to light love,
Which the dark night hath so discovered.

ROм. Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear,
That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops,—

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,
And I'll believe thee.

ROM. If my heart's dear love

JUL. Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee,
I have no joy in this contract to-night:

It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden:
Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be,
Ere one can say-It lightens. Sweet, good night!
This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,
May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet,
Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest
Come to thy heart, as that within my breast!

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.)
I hear some noise within: Dear love, adieu !—

Anon, good nurse!--Sweet Montague, be true.
Stay, but a little, I will come again.

ROM. O blessed, blessed night! I am afraid,
Being in night, all this is but a dream,

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,
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's name.

ROM. It is my soul that calls upon my name:
How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night,
Like softest music to attending ears!

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!
Hence will I to my ghostly father's cell;
His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell.

[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,
Promoted thence to deck her mistress' head;
Next for some gracious service unexpress'd,
And from its wages only to be guess'd-
Raised from the toilette to the table,-where
Her wondering betters wait behind her chair.
With eye unmoved, and forehead unabash'd,
She dines from off the plate she lately wash'd.
Quick with the tale, and ready with the lie-
The genial confidante, and general spy-

Who could, ye gods! her next employment guess—
An only infant's earliest governess!

She taught the child to read, and taught so well,
That she herself by teaching learn'd to spell.
An adept next in penmanship she grows,

As many a nameless slander deftly shows:
What she had made the pupil of her art,

None know-but that high Soul secured the heart,
And panting for the truth it could not hear,

With longing breast and undeluded ear,

Foil'd was perversion by that youthful mind,

Which Flattery fool'd not-Baseness could not blind,
Deceit infect not-near Contagion soil-
Indulgence weaken-nor Example spoil-
Nor mastered Science tempt her to look down
On humbler talents with a pitying frown—
Nor Genius swell-nor Beauty render vain—
Nor envy ruffle to retaliate pain-

Nor Fortune change--Pride raise-nor Passion bow,

Nor Virtue teach austerity-till now.
Serenely purest of her sex that live,

But wanting one sweet weakness-to forgive,
Too shock'd at faults her soul can never know,
She deems that all could be like her below:
Foe to all vice, yet hardly Virtue's friend.
For virtue pardons those she would amend.

But to the theme-now laid aside too long,
The baleful burthen of this honest song-
Though all her former functions are no more,
She rules the circle which she served before.
If mothers-none know why-before her quake,
If daughters dread her for the mothers' sake;
If early habits-those false links, which bind
At times the loftiest to the meanest mind-
Have given her power too deeply to instil
The angry essence of her deadly will;
If like a snake she steal within your walls,
Till the black slime betray her as she crawls;
If like a viper to the heart she wind,
And leave the venom there she did not find;
What marvel that this hag of hatred works
Eternal evil latent as she lurks.

To make a Pandemonium where she dwells
And reign the Hecate of domestic hells?
Skill'd by a touch to deepen scandal's tints
With all the kind mendacity of hints,

While mingling truth with falsehood-sneers with smiles-
A thread of candor with a web of wiles;

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;
And without feeling, mock at all who feel:
With a vile mask the Gorgon would disown;
A cheek of parchment-and an eye of stone,
Mark, how the channels of her yellow blood
Ooze to her skin, and stagnate there to mud.
Cased like the centipede in saffron mail,
Or darker greenness of the scorpion's scale-
(For drawn from reptiles only may we trace
Congenial colors in that soul or face)—
Look on her features! and behold her mind
As in a mirror of itself defined:

Look on the picture! deem it not o'ercharged-
There is no trait which might not he enlarged:
Yet true to "Nature's journeymen." who made
This monster when their mistress left off trade-

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