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 world
What man art thou that thus bescreen'd in night so stumblest on my consel?
By love, who first did prompt me to inquire; he lent me counsel and I lent him eyes
O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, that monthly chances in her circled changes in her circled orb, lest that thy love prove likewise variable
O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard. Being in night, all this is but a dream, too flattering-sweet to be substantial
Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed. If that thy bent of love be honourable, thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow, 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