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Gre. How? turn thy back, and ran?
You, Capulet, shall go along with me;
And, Montague, come you this afternoon,
(begin. To know our farther pleasure in this case,
Gre. I will frown, as I pass by; and let them Once more, on pain of death, all men depart. take it as they list.
[Exeunt Prince, and Attendants; Capulet, Sam. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thamb
Lady Capulet, Tybalt, Citizens, and at them; which is a disgrace to them, if they
Servants. bear it.
Mon. Who set this ancient quarrel newabroach?— Abr. Do yon bite your thumb at us, sir? Speak, nephew, were you by, when it began? Sam. I do bite my thumb, sir.
Ben. Here were the servauts of your adversary, Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? And yours, close fighting ere I did approach : Sam. Is the law on our side, if I say—ay? I drew to part them; in the instant came Gre. No.
The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepar’d; Sam. No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, Which, as he breath'd defiance to my ears, sir; but I bite my thumb, sir,
He swung about his head, and cut the winds, Gre. Do you quarrel, sir?
Who, nothing hurt withal, hiss'd him in scorn : Abr. Quarrel, sir? no, sir.
While we were interchanging thrusts and blows, Sam. If you do, sir, I am for you; I serve as Came more and more, and fought on part and part, good a man as you.
Till the prince came, who parted either part. Abr. No better.
La. Mon. O, where is Romeo ?-saw you him Sam. Well, sir.
to-day? Enter BENVOLIO, at a distance.
Right glad I am, he was not at this fray.
Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd san Gre, Say-better; here comes one of my mas Peer'd forth the golden window of the east, ter's kinsmen.
A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad; Sam. Yes, better, sir.
Where,--underneath the grove of sycamore, Abr. You lie.
That westward rooteth from the city's side, Sam. Draw, if you be men.-Gregory, remem
So early walking did I see your son: ber thy swashing blow.
(They fight,) Towards him I made; but he was 'ware of me, Ben. Part, fools; put up your swords; you And stole into the covert of the wood: know not what you do. (Beats down their swords.) I, measuring his affections by my own, Enter TYBALT.
That most are busied when they are most alone,Tyb. What, art thou drawn among these heart. Pursu'd my hamour, not pursuing his, less binds?
And gladly sbunn'd who gladly fled from me. Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death.
Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen, Ben. I do but keep the peace ; put up thy sword, With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew, Or manage it to part these men with me.
Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs : Tyb. What, drawn and talk of peace? I hate Bat all so soon as the all-cheering san the word,
Sbould in the farthest east begin to draw As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee:
The shady curtains from Aurora's bed, Have at thee, coward.
(They fight.) Away from light steals home my heavy son,
And private in his chamber pens himself; Enter several Partizans of both Houses, who join the Shuts up his windows, locks fair day-light out, fray; then enter Citizens, with clubs.
And makes himself an artificial night: 1 Çit. Clubs, bills, and partizans ! strike! beat Black and portentous must this humour prove, them down!
[tagues! Uuless good counsel may the cause remove. Down with the Capulets! Down with the Mon Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause?'
Mon1 neither know it, nor can learn of him. Enter CAPULET, in his gown ; and Lady Capulet. Cap. Wbat noise is this ?--Give me my long
Ben. Have you importun'd him by any means ? sword, ho!
Mon. Both by myself, and many other friends": La. Cap. A crutch, a crutch !-Why call you for Is to himself, I will not say, how true
Bat he, his own affections' counsellor, Cap. My sword, I say!-Old Montague is come,
But to himself so secret and so close, And flourishes his blade in spite of me.
So far from sounding and discovery, Enter MONTAGUE, and Lady MONTAGUE. As is the bad bit with an envious worm, Mon, Thou villain, Capulet.-Hold me not, let Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, me go.
[foe. Or dedicate his beauty to the sun. La. Mon. Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow, Enter Prince, with Attendants,
We would as willingly give cure as know.
Enter Romeo, at a distance. Will they not hear?-What, ho! you men, you Ben. See wbere he comes : So please you, step beasts,
aside; That quench the fire of your pernicious rage. I'll know his grievance, or be much denied. With purple fountains issaing from your veins, Mon. I would, thou
wert so bappy by thy stay, On pain of torture, from those bloody, hands To hear true sbrift. Come, madam, let's away. Throw your mis-temper'd weapons to the ground,
(Exeunt Montague and Lady. And hear the sentence of your moved prince. Ben. Good morrow, cousin. Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word,
Is the day so young ? By thee, old Capulet, and Montague,
Ben. But new struck nine. Have thrice disturb's the quiet of our streets ; Rom.
Ah me! sad hours seem long. And made Verona's ancient citizens
Was that my fatber that went hence so fast? Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments,
Ben. It was :—What sadness lengthens Romeo's To wield old partizans, in hands as old,
[them short. Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate : Rom. Not having that, which, baving, makes If ever you disturb our streets again,
Ben, In love? Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.
Rom. Out for this time, all the rest depart away:
Ben. Of love?
Rom. Out of her favour, where I am in love. Farewell; thou canst not teach me to forget.
Ben. Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, Ren. I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt. Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!
Esetist Rom, Alas, that love, whose view is muflled still,
SCENE II.-A Street.
Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Servant.
Cap. And Montague is bound as well as I, Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.
In penalty alike ; and 'tis not hard, I think, Here's much to do with hate, but more with love:- For men so old as we to keep the peace. Why then, O brawling love ! O loving hate ! Par. Of honourable reckoning are you both; O any thing, of nothing first create !
And pity 'tis, you lived at odds so long. O heavy lightness! serious vanity!
But now, my lord, what say you to my soit! Mis-sbapen chaos of well-seeming forms!
Cap. But saying o'er what I have said before : Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick My child is yet a stranger in the world, health!
Sbe hath noi seen the change of fourteen years, Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is !
Let two more summers wither in their pride, This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride. Dost thou not laugh?
Par. Younger than she are happy motbers made. Ben.
No, coz, I rather weep. Cap. And too soon niarr'd are those so early Rom. Good heart, at what?
At thy good heart's oppression. The earth bath swallow'd all my hopes but she,
But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,
Lies my consent and fair according voice.
At my poor house look to behold this night A choaking gall, and a preserving sweet.
Earth-treading stars, that make dark beavea light Farewell, my coz.
(Going.) | Such comfort, as do lusty young men feel Ben. Soft, I will go along;
When well-apparell'd April on the heel An if you leave me so, you do me wrong.
Of limping winter treads, even such delight Rom. Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here; Among fresh female buds shall you this night This is not Romeo, he's some other where. Inherit at my house; bear all, all see,
Ben. Tell me in sadness, who she is you love, And like her most, whose merit most shall be: Rom. What, shall I groan, and tell thee? Such, amongst view of many, mine, being obe, Ben,
Groan? why, no; May stand in number, though in reckoning Do#. But sadly tell me, who.
Come, go with me ;-Go, sirrah, trudge about Rom. Bid a sick man in sadness make his will : Through fair Verona ; find those persons out, Ah, word ill urg'd to one that is so ill !
Whose names are written there, (gives a paper.! In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.
and to them say, Ben. I aim'd so near, when I suppos’d you lov'd. My house and welcome on their pleasure star. Rom. A right good marksman !-And she's fair
(Exeunt Capulet ard Paris I love.
Serv. Find them out, whose names are wnia Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. here? It is written that the shoemaker should Rom. Well, in that hit you miss : she'll not be hit meddle with his yard, and the tailor with his is With Cupid's arrow, she hath Dian's wit; the fisher with his pencil, and the painter with a And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd, nets; but I am sent to find those persons, whose From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm’d. names are here writ, and can bever find what parti She will not stay the siege of loving terms, the writing person bath here writ. I must to the Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes,
learned :-In good time. Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold : 0, she is rich in beauty; only poor;
Enter BENYOLIO and ROMEO. That, when she dies, with beauty dies her store. Ben. Tut, man! one fire burns out another's Ben. Then she bath sworn, that she will still live
burning, chaste ?
[waste; One pain is lessen'd by another's angoish; Rom. She hath, and in that sparing makes huge Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning For beauty, starv'd with ber severity,
One desperate grief cares with another's įsaCuts beauty off from all posterity.
guish : She is too fair, too wise ; wisely too fair,
Take thou some new infection to thy eye, To merit bliss by making me despair :
And the rank poison of the old will
die. She hath forsworn to love; and, in that vow,
Rom. Yoar plaintain leaf is excellent for that. Do I live dead, that live to tell it now.
Ben. For what, I pray thee? Ben, Be rul'd by me, forget to think of her.
For your broken shit. Rom. O, teach me how I should forget to think. Ben. Why, Romeo, art thou mad?
[is Ben. By giving liberty unto thine eyes;
Rom. Not mad, but bound more than a madreu Examine other beauties.
Shut up in prison, kept without my food, Rom.
Whipp'd, and tormented, and-Good-e'en, good To call ber's, exquisite, in question more :
fellow. These happy masks, that kiss fair ladies' brows, Serv. God gi' good-e'en.-I pray, sir, can you Being black, put us in mind they bide the fair; Rom. Ay, mine own fortune in my misery. He, that is strucken blind, cannot forget
Serv. Perbaps you have learn'd it without book: The precious treasure of his eyesight lost :
But I pray, can you read any thing you see ! Shew me a mistress, that is passing fair,
Rom. Ay, if I know the letters, and the lani What doth her beauty serve, but as a note,
guage. Where I may read, who pass'd that posing fair? Serv. Ye say honestly; Rest you merry!
'Tis the way
Rom. Stay, Fellow: I can read. (Reads.), Sitting in the sun ander the dove-house wall,
Signior Marlino, and his wife, and daughters; My lord and you were then at Mantua :
County Anselme, and his beauteous sisters; The lady Nay, I do bear a brain :-but, as I said, 2 widow of Vitruvio; Signior Placentio, and his lovely When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple nieces;
Mercutio, and his brother Valentine; Mine of ny dug, and felt it bitter, pretty fool! uncle Capulet, his wife, and daughters; My fair To see it tetchy, and fall out with the dug. niece Rosaline; Livia; Signior Valentió, and his Shake, quoth the dove-house: 'twas no need, I cousin Tybalt; Lucio, and the lively Helena. To bid me trudge.
(trow, poles A fair assembly; (gives back the note.) Whither Aud since that time it is eleven years : should they come?
For then she could stand alone ; nay, by the rood,
She could have run and waddled all about.
For even the day before, sbe broke her brow:
And then my busband—God be with his soul ! Rom. Whose house?
'A was a merry man ;-took up the child : Serv. My master's.
Yea, quoth be, dost thou fall upon thy face? Rom. Indeed, I should have asked you that Thou will fall backwards, when thou hast more wit; before.
Wilt thou not, Jule? and, by my holy-dam, Serv. Now I'll tell you without asking: My The pretty wretch left crying, and said--Ay: is master is the great rich Capulet; and if you be To see now, how a jest shall come about !
not of the house of Montagues, I pray, come and I warrant, an I should live a thousand years, vir crush a cup of wine. Rest you merry: (Exit. I never should forget it; Wilt thou not, Jule! Ben. At this same ancient feast of Capulet's
quoth he : Sups the fair Rosaline, whom thoa so lov'st; And, pretty fool, it stinted, and said-Ay. With all the admired beauties of Verona:
La. Cap. Enough of this; I pray thee, hold thy Go thither; and, with unattainted eye,
[laugh, Compare her face with some that I shall shew, Nurse. Yes, madam; yet I cannot choose bat And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.
To think it should leave crying, and say-Ay: Rom. When the devout religion of mine eye And yet, I warrant, it had apon its brow
Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires ! A bump as big as a young cockrel's stone; And these,-who, often drown'd, could never die - A parlous knock; and it cried bitterly.
Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars ! Yea, quoth my husband, fall st upon thy face? One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun Thou uilt fall backward, when thou com 'st to age ; Ne'er saw ber match, since first the world began. Wilt thou not, Jule? it stinted, and said — Aj.
Ben. Tat! you saw her fair, vone else being by, Jul. And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, say I. Herself pois’d with herself in either ege:
Nurse. Peace, I have done. God mark thee to But in those crystal scales, let there be weigh'd
his grace! Your lady's love against some other maid
Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nurs'd : Chat I will shew you, shining at this feast,
An I might live to see thee married once, And she shall scant shew well, that now shews | I bave my wish. best.
La. Cap. Marry, that marry is the very theme Rom. I'll go along, no such sight to be shewn, I came to talk of :-Tell me, daughter Juliet, But to rejoice in splendour of mine owo. (Exeunt. How stands your disposition to be married ?
Jul. It is an honour that I dream not of.
I'd say, thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat, La. Cap. Nurse, where's my daughter ? call her La. Cap. Well, think of marriage now; younger
forth to me. Nurse. Now, by my maiden-bead,-at twelve Here in Verona, ladies of esteem, year old,
Are made already mothers : by my count, bade her come. What, lamb! what, lady-bird! I was your mother much upon these years iod forbid !—where's this girl ?--what, Juliet! That you are now a maid. "Thus then, in brief;
The valiant Paris seeks yon for his love.
Nurse. A man, young lady! lady, such a man, Jul. How now, who calls ?
As all the world
why, he's a man of wax. Nurse.
La. Cap. Verona's summer hath not such a power. Jul.
Madam, I am here. Nurse. Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower. Vhat is your will ?
[awhile, La. Cap. What say you ? can you love the genLa. Cap. This is the matter :-Nurse, give leave
Ueman ? je must talk in secret.-Nurse, come back again; This night you shall behold him at our feast; have remember'd me, thou shalt hear our counsel. Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face, hou know'st, my daughter's of a pretty age. And find delight writ there with beauty's pen ; Nurse. 'Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour. Examine every married lineament, La. Cap. She's not foarteen.
And see how one another lends content; Nurse.
I'll lay fourteen of my teeth, And what obscar'd in this fair volaine lies, ad yet, to my teen be it spoken, I have but four,- | Find written in the margin of his eyes. le is not fourteen ; how long is it now
This precious book of love, this onbound lover, » Lammas-lide ?
To beautify him, only lacks a cover: La. Cap.
A fortnight, and odd days. The fish lives in the sea; and 'tis much pride, Nurse. Even or odd, of all days in the year, For fair without the fair within to hide : ime Lammas-eve at night, shall she be fourteen. That book in many's eyes doth share the glory, san and she,--God rest all Christian souls !
That in gold clasps locks in the golden story; ere of an age.- Well, Susan is with God; So shall you share all that he doth possess, e was too good for me: But, as I said,
By having him, making yourself no less. Laminas-eve at night shall she be fourteen ; Nurse. No less? nay, bigger; women grow by at shall she, marry; I remember it well.
(love? s since the earthquake now eleven years; La. Cap. Speak briefly, can you like of Paris'
she was wean'd, - I never shall forget it, Jul. I'll look to like, if looking liking move:: all the days of the year, upon that day: But no more deep will I endart mine eye, , 1 bad then laid wormwood to my dog, Than your consent gives strength to make it Oy,
Enter a Servant.
In shape no bigger than an agate-stone Serv. Madam, the guests are come, supper serp
On the fore-finger of an alderman, ed up, you called, my young lady asked for, the Drawn with a team of little atomies nurse cursed in the pantry, and every thing in ex
Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep : tremity. I must bence to wait; I beseech you, The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers;
Her waggon-spokes made of long-spinners' legs; follow'straight. La. Cap. We follow thee.—Juliet, the county The traces, of the smallest spider's web; stays.
The collars, of the moonshine's watery beios: Nurse. Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy Her whip, of cricket's bone ; the lash, of fia:
[Exeunt. Her waggoner, a small grey-coated gnat, Scene IV.-A Street.
Not halt so big as a round little wo Enter ROMEO, Mercurio, Benvolio, with five Her chariot is an empty hazel-nat,
Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid : or six Maskers, Torch-Bearers, and others.
Made by the joiner squirrel, or old grub, Rom. What, shall this speech be spoke for our Time out of mind the fairies' coach-makers, excuse?
And in this state she gallops night by night Or shall we on without apology?
Through lover's brains, and then thes dreund Ben. The date is out of such prolixity :
(straight: We'll have no Capid hood-wink'd with a scarf, On courtiers' knees, that dream on cours Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath,
O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream tales. Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper;
O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dreis; Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagos, After the prompter, for our entrance :
Because their breaths with sweet-meats taisted But, let them measure us by what they will, Sometimes she gallops o'er a courtier's Rose, We'll measure them a measure, and be gone, And then dreams he of smelling out a suit: Rom. Give me a torch, I am not for this am And sometimes comes she with a tithe-pig's tal, bling;
Tickling a parson's pose as 'a lies asleep, Being but heavy, I will bear the light.
Then dreams be of another benefice : Mer. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you sometimes she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, dance.
And then dreams he of cutting foreign threats, Rom. Not I, believe me: you have dancing shoes, or breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, With nimble soles : I have a soul of lead,
Of healths five fathom deep; and then an oa So stakes me to the ground, I canpot move. Drums in his ear; at which he starts, and sales;
Mer. You are a lover ; borrow Capid's wings, And, being thus frighted, swears a prayer er 156. And soar with them above a common bound. And sleeps again. This is that very Mab,
Rom. I am too sore empierced with his shaft, That plats the danes of horses in the nigbt; To soar with his light feathers; and so bound, And bakes the elf-locks in foul sluttish hairs, I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe :
Which, once untangled, much misfortabe bods. Under love's heavy burden do I sink.
This is the bag, wben maids lie on their backs, Mer. And, to sink in it, should you burden love; That presses them, and learns them first to bear, Too great oppression for a tender thing.
Making them women of good carriage.
Peace, peace, Mercutio, pear Mer. If love be rough' with you, be rough with | Thou talk'st of nothing. love ;
True, I talk of dreams Prick lote for pricking, and you beat love down.- Which are the children of an idle brain, Give me a case to put my visage in.
Begot of nothing but vain fantasy ;
(Putting on a mask.) Which is as thin of substance as the air; A visor for a visor!-wbat care I,
And more inconstant than the wind, who Fores What curious eye doth quote deformities?
Even now the frozen bosom of the north, Here are the beetle-brows, shall blush for me. And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence,
Ben. Come, knock, and enter; and no sooner in, Turning his face to the dew-dropping soath. But every man betake him to his legs.
Ben. This wind, you talk of, blows us from a Rom. A torch for me: let wantons, light of heart,
selves; Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels; Supper is done, and we shall come too late. For I am proverb’d with a grandsire phrase, Rom. I fear, too early: for my miod misgire I'll be a candle-holder, and look on,-
Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars, The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done. Shall bitterly begin bis fearful date Mer. Tut! dun's the mouse, the constable's own With this night's revels; and expire the term word:
Of a despised life, clos'd in my breast, If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire By some vile forfeit of untimely death : Of this (save reverence) love, wherein thou stick'st But He, that hath the steerage of my course, Up to the ears.-Come, we burn day-light, bo. Direct my sail!-On, lusty geutlemen. Ron. Nay, that's not so.
Ben. Strike, drum. Mer.
I mean, sir, in delay We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day.
SCENE V.-A Hall in Capulet's House. Take our good meaning ; for our judgmeot sits
Musicians wa ting. Enter Servants. Five times in that, ere once in our five wits.
1 Serv. Where's Potpan, that he helps se Rom. And we mean well, in going to this mask; take away? he shift å trencher! be seres But 'tis no wit to go.
trencher! Mer. Why, may one ask?
2 Serv. When good manners shall lie all i Rom. I dreamt a dream to-night.
or two men's hands, and they unwashed teo, b Mer.
And so did I. foul thing. Rom. Well, what was your's?
1 Serv. Away with the joint-stools, remort Mer. That dreamers often lie.
court-cupboard, look to the plate :--good Rom. In bed, asleep, while they do dream things save me a piece of marchpane; and, as thoak: true.
[yoa. me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstope, Mer. O, then, I see, queen Mah hath been with Nell.-Antony! and Potpan! She is the fairies' midwife; and he comes
2 Serv. Ay, boy; ready.
Will now deny todance she, that makes dainty, she, Tyb. Patience perforce with wita" choler
s That I have worn a visor; and could tell 1116 Ah, sirrah, this uplook'd-for sport comes well.
1 Serv. You are looked for, and called for; asked Am I the master here, or you? go to. for, and sought for, in the great chamber.
You'll pot endure bim !-God shall mend my soul 2 Serv. We cannot be here and there, too. You'll make a matiny among my guests!
Cheerly, boys; be brisk a while, and the longer You will set cock-a-hoop! you'll be the man! 68 liver take all.
(They retire behind.) T'yb. Why, uncle, 'tis a shame.
Go to, go to,
You are a sancy boy:-Is't so, indeed ?-
This trick may chance to scathe you ;-I know what,
Well said, my hearts :--You are a princox; go : Unplagu’d with corns, will have a bout with you : Be quiet, er-More light, more ligbt, for shame! men
I'll ! e no I'll swear hath corns; Am I come near you now?
meeting You are welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day, Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.
I will withdraw : but this intrusion shall, 2. A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear,
Now seeming sweet, convert to bitter gall. [Exit, Such as would please ;—'tis gone,
'tis Rom. If I profane with my unworthy hand gone: [play.
(To Juliet.) You are welcome, gentlemen !-Come, musicians, This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this, A hall! a hall! give room, and foot it, girls. My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
(Music plays, and they dance.) To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss More light, ye knaves; and turn the tables up, Jul. Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot.
Which mannerly devotion shews in this;, Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet ;
For saints have hånds, that pilgrims' hands do For you and I are past our dancing days:
touch, How long is't now, since last yourself and I
And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss. Were in a mask?
Rom. Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too? 2 Cap. By's lady, thirty years.
Jul. Ay, pilgrim, lips, that they must use in 1 Cap. What, man! 'tis not so much, 'tis not
[do; so much:
then, dear saint, let lips do what hands 'Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio,
They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to desCome pentecost as quiokly as it will,
[sake. Some five and twenty years; and then we mask'd. Jul. Saints do not move, though grant for prayers
2 Cap. 'Tis more, 'tís more: his son is elder, sir; Rom. Then move not, while my prayer's effect His son is thirty.
I take. 1 Cap.
Will you tell me that? Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purg'd. His son was but a ward two years ago. [hand
(Kissing her.) Rom. What lady's that, which doth enrich the Jul. Then have my lips the sin that they have Of yonder knight ?
took. Serv. I know not, sir.
Rom. Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly Rom. O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! Give me my sin again. Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night
You kiss by the book. Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear:
Nurse. Madam, your mother craves a word Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! So shews a snowy dove trooping with crows,
Rom. What is her mother? As yonder lady o'er her fellows shews.
Marry, bachelor, The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand, Her mother is the lady of the house, Aod, touching hers, make happy my rude hand. And a good lady, and a wise, and virtuous : Did my beart love till now ? forswear it, sight! I nurs’d her daughter, that you talk'd withal ; For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night. I tell you,-he, that oan lay hold of her, Tyb. This, by his voice, should be a Montague :
Shall have the chinks. Fetch me my rapier, boy :—What! dares the slave Rom.
Is she a Capulet? Come hither, cover'd with an antiok face,
O dear account! my life is my foe's debt. To fleer and scorn at our solemnity?
Ben. Away, begone; the sport is at the best. Now, by the stock and honour of my kin,
Rom. Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest. To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.
1 Cap. Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone : 1 Cap. Why, how now, kinsman? wherefore we have a trifling foolish banquet towards. storm you so ?
Is it e'en so? Why, then I thank you all : Tyb. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe; I thank you, honest gentlemen; good night:A villain, that is hither come in spite,
More torches here! Come on, then let's to bed. To scorn at our solemnity this night.
Ah, sirrah, (To 2 Cap.) by my fay, it waxes late; -1 Cap. Young Romeo is't?
I'll to my rest. [Exeunt all but Juliet and Nurse. Tyb.
"Tis he, that villain Romeo. Jul.Come hither, narse: What is yon gentleman? 1 Cap. Content thee, gentle ooz, let him alone, Nurse. The son and beir of old Tiberio. He bears him like a portly gentleman;
Jul. What's he, that now is going out of door? And, to say trath, Verona brags of him,
Nurse. Marry, that, I think, be young Petruchio, To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth:
Jul. What's he, that follows there, that would I would not, for the wealth of all this town,
not dance? Here in my house, do him disparagement:
Nurse. I know not. Therefore be patient, take no note of bim,
Jul. Go, ask his name :-if he be married, It is my will; the which if thou respect,
My grave is like to be my wedding bed. Shew a fair presence, and put off these frowns, Nurse. His name is Romeo, and a Montagne ; An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.
The only son of your great enemy. Tyb. It fits, when such a villain is a guest; Jul. My only love sprung from my only hate ! I'll not endure him.
Too early seen unknown, and known too late, 1 Cap. He shall be endor'd :
Prodigious birth of love it is to me, W bat, goodman boy!-I say, he shall;--Goto;- 'That I must love a loathed enemy.