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.
My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words
Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound:
not Romeo and a Montague?
Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike.
How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?
The orchard walls are high and hard to climb,
place death, considering who thou art,
If any of my kinsmen find thee here.
With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls;
For stony limits cannot hold love out,
And what love
can do that dares love attempt;
Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me.
If they do see thee, they will murder thee.
Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye
Than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet,
And I am proof
against their enmity.
I would not for the world they saw thee here.
I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight;
And but thou love me, let them find me here:
My life were
better ended by their hate,
Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.
By whose direction found'st thou out this place?
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 that vast shore wash'd with the farthest sea,
I would adventure for such merchandise.
Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face,
Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek
which thou hast heard me speak to-night
Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny
What I have spoke: but
Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,'
And I will take thy word: yet if thou swear'st,
mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries
Then say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,
If thou dost love, pronounce
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