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.
By a name I 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.
What Man art thou that thus bescreen'd in night so stumblest on my counsel?
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 the vast shore wash'd with the farthest sea, I would adventure for such merchandise.
By whose directions found'st thou out this place?
O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, That monthly changes in her circled orb, lest that tiny thy love prove likewise variable.
Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear that tips of silver all these fruit-tree tops--
Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed. 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.
O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard. Being in night, all this is but a dream, too flattering-sweet to be substantial.