Soliloquy

Thou know’st the mask of night is on my face,

Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek

For that which thou hast heard me speak tonight.

Fain would I dwell on form. Fain, fain deny

What I have spoke. But farewell compliment!

Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say “ay,”

And I will take thy word. Yet if thou swear’st

Thou mayst prove false. At lovers’ perjuries,

They say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,

If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully.

Or if thou think’st I am too quickly won,

I’ll frown and be perverse and say thee nay,

So thou wilt woo. But else, not for the world.

In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond,

And therefore thou mayst think my ‘havior light.

But trust me, gentleman, I’ll prove more true

Than those that have more coying to be strange.

I should have been more strange, I must confess,

But that thou overheard’st, ere I was ‘ware,

My true love’s passion. Therefore pardon me,

And not impute this yielding to light love,

Which the dark night hath so discovered.