By her high forehead and her scarlet lip,

By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh,

And the demesnes that there adjacent lie,

That in thy likeness thou appear to us.


BENVOLIO.

An if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him.


MERCUTIO.

This cannot anger him. ’Twould anger him

To raise a spirit in his mistress’ circle,

Of some strange nature, letting it there stand

Till she had laid it, and conjur’d it down;

That were some spite. My invocation

Is fair and honest, and, in his mistress’ name,

I conjure only but to raise up him.


BENVOLIO.

Come, he hath hid himself among these trees

To be consorted with the humorous night.

Blind is his love, and best befits the dark.


MERCUTIO.

If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.

Now will he sit under a medlar tree,

And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit

As maids call medlars when they laugh alone.

O Romeo, that she were, O that she were

An open-arse and thou a poperin pear!

Romeo, good night. I’ll to my truckle-bed.

This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep.

Come, shall we go?


BENVOLIO.

Go then; for ’tis in vain

To seek him here that means not to be found.


 [Exeunt.]
SCENE II. Capulet’s Garden.
 Enter Romeo.
ROMEO.

He jests at scars that never felt a wound.


 Juliet appears above at a window.


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,

Who is already sick and pale with grief,

That thou her maid art far more fair than she.

Be not her maid since she is envious;

Her vestal livery is but sick and green,

And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.

It is my lady, O it is my love!

O, that she knew she were!

She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that?

Her eye discourses, I will answer it.

I am too bold, ’tis not to me she speaks.

Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,

Having some business, do entreat her eyes