But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?
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.
Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, Retain that dear perfection which he owes. Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name, which is no part of thee. Take all myself.
Juliet is in love with me... so do I
I take thee at thy word. Call me but love, and I’ll be new baptized. Henceforth I never will be Romeo.
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?
O blessèd, blessèd night! I am afeard, Being in night, all this is but a dream, Too flattering sweet to be substantial.
I gave thee mine before thou didst request it, And yet I would it were to give again.
So thrive my soul—
If that thy bent of love be honorable, Thy purpose marriage, send me word tomorrow. 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.