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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!
See how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O that I were a glove upon that hand, that I might touch that cheek!
She speaks: O speak again, bright angel!
Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?
O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?
I take thee at thy word: Call me but, and I'll be new baptized; Henceforth I never will be Romeo.
Romeo, doff thy name, and for that name which is no part of thee. Take all myself.
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