The Ape is Dead
The ape is dead, and I must conjure him
I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes
By her high forehead and her scarlet lip
By her fine foot, straight leg and quivering thigh
And if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him
I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes
And if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him
By her fine foot, straight leg and quivering thigh
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 conjured it down
And if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him
I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes
And if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him
By her fine foot, straight leg and quivering thigh
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
And if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him
I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes
And if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him
By her fine foot, straight leg and quivering thigh
Lyrics by William Shakespeare
From
Romeo and Juliet Act 2, Scene 1