ck and pale with grief at the superior lustre of this new sun.
And she, leaning her cheek upon her hand, he passionately wished
himself a glove upon that hand, that he might touch her cheek. She all
this while thinking herself alone, fetched a deep sigh, and exclaimed:
'Ah me!' Romeo, enraptured to hear her speak, said softly, and unheard
by her: 'O speak again, bright angel, for such you appear, being over
my head, like a winged messenger from heaven whom mortals fall back to
gaze upon.' She, unconscious of being overheard, and full of the new
passion which that night's adventure had given birth to, called upon
her lover by name (whom she supposed absent): 'O Romeo, Romeo!' said
she, 'wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father, and refuse thy name,
for my sake; or if thou wilt not, be but my sworn love, and I no longer
will be a Capulet.'

Romeo, having this encouragement, would fain have spoken, but he was
desirous of hearing more; and the lady continued her passionate
discourse with herself (as she thought), still chiding Romeo for being
Romeo and a Montague, and wishing him some other name, or that he would
put away that hated name, and for that name which was no part of
himself, he should take all herself. At this loving word Romeo could no
longer refrain, but taking up the dialogue as if her words had been
addressed to him personally, and not merely in fancy, he bade her call
him Love, or by whatever other name she pleased, for he was no longer
Romeo, if that name was displeasing to her. Juliet, alarmed to hear a
man's voice in the garden, did not at first know who it was, that by
favour of the night and darkness had thus stumbled upon the discovery
of her secret; but when he spoke again, though her ears had not yet
drunk a hundred words of that tongue's uttering, yet so nice is a
lover's hearing, that she immediately knew him to be young Romeo, and
she expostulated with him on the danger to which he had exposed himself
by climbing the orchard walls, for if any of her kinsmen should find
him there, it would be death to him, being a Montague. 'Alack,' said
Romeo, 'there is more peril in your eye, than in twenty of their
swords. Do you but look kind upon me, lady, and I am proof against
their enmity. Better my life should be ended by their hate, than that
hated life should be prolonged, to live without your love.' 'How came
you into this place,' said Juliet, 'and by whose direction?' 'Love
directed me,' answered Rome