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- But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks?It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
- It is my lady, O, it is my love! O, that she knew she were!
- Ay me!
- She speaks.O, speak again, bright angel, for thou artAs glorious to this night,.
- Romeo,Romeo!Wherefore thouart 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
- Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?
- 'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part Belonging to a man.
- I take thee at thy word.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?
- By a nameI know not how to tell thee who I am.My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,Because it is an enemy to thee.Had I it written, I would tear the word.
- My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words Of that tongue's uttering, yet I know the sound. Art thou not Romeo and a Montague?
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