Fain would I dwell on form — fain, fain denyWhat 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 thinkest 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 trueThan those that have more cunning to be strange.I should have been more strange, I must confess,But that thou overheard’st, ere I was ware,My true-love passion. Therefore pardon me,And not impute this yielding to light love,Which the dark night hath so discovered.