O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art As glorious to thus night, being o'er my head, As is a winged messenger of heaven Unto the white upturned wond'ring eyes Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him When he bestrides the lazy puffing clouds And sails upon the bosom of air
O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be sworn my love, And i'll no longer be a Capulet
Shall i hear more, or shall i speak at this?
What man art thou, thus bescreened in night, So stumblest on my counsel?
I know not how to tell thee who i am. My name,dear saint, is hateful to myself Because it is enemy to thee Had I it written, I would tear the word
My ears have yet not a drunk a hundred words Of thy tounge's uttering, yet i know the sound. Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague
Neither, fair maid, if either thee dislike
How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? The orchard walls are high and hard to climb, And the place death, consedering who thou art.
I flew over these walls with the light wings of love. Stone walls can't keep love out. Whatever a man in love can possibly do, his love will make him try to do it. Therefor your relatives are no obstacle.
Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye Than twenty of their swords. Look thou but sweet, And i am proof againts their enmity