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So shews a snowy dove trooping with crows,
Tyb. This, by his voice, should be a Montague. —
Cap. Why, how now, kinsman! wherefore storm you so?
Tyb. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe;
Cap. Ypung Romeo is it?
Tyb. 'Tis he, that villain Romeo.
Cap. Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone;
Tyb. It fits, when such a villain is a guest.
Cap. He shall be endur'd:
What! goodman boy ! — I say, he shall; — go to; —
You are a saucy boy. — Is't so, indeed ? —
\_To Juliet. This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this, — My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. Jul. Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, Which mannerly devotion shews in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss. Rom. Have not saints lips, and holy palmers
too? Jul. Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in
prayer. Rom. O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do, They pray: grant thou, lest faith turn to despair. Jul. Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.
Rom. Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take. Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purg'd.
Jul. Then have my lips the sin that they have took.
Rom. Sin from my lips? 0, trespass sweetly urg'd! Give me my sin again.
Jul. You kiss b' th' book.
Nurse. Madam, your mother craves a word with you.
Rom. What is her mother?
Nurse. Marry, bachelor,
Her mother is the lady of the house,
Ro?n. Is she a Capulet?
0, dear account! my life is my foe's debt.
Ben. Away, begone: the sport is at the best.
Rom. Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest.
1 Cap. Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone; We have a trifling foolish banquet towards. — Is it e'en so? Why then, I thank you all; I thank you, honest gentlemen; good night: — More torches here! — Come on, then let's to bed. Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late; I'll to my rest. [Exeunt all but Juliet and Nurse.
Jul. Come hither, nurse. What is yond' gentleman?
Nurse. The son and heir of old Tiberio.
Jul. What's he, that now is going out of door"5
Nurse. Marry, that, I think, be young Petruchio.
Jul. What's he, that follows here, that would not dance?
Nurse. I know not.
Jul. Go, ask his name. — If he be married, My grave is like to be my wedding bed.
Nurse. His name is Romeo, and a Montague;
Jul. My only love sprung from my only hate!
Nurse. What's this r what's this?
Jul. A rhyme I learn'd even now
Of one I danc'd withal. [One calls within, "Juliet!"
Nurse. Anon, anon : —
Come, let's away; the strangers all are gone.
[Exeunt. Enter Chokus. Now old desire doth in his death-bed lie,
And young affection gapes to be his heir: That fair, for which love groan'd for, and would die,
With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair. Now Romeo is belov'd, and loves again,
Alike bewitched by the charm of looks; But to his foe suppos'd he must complain,
And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks: Being held a foe, he may not have access
To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear; And she as much in love, her means much less
To meet her new-beloved any where: But passion lends them power, time means, to meet, Temp'ring extremities with extreme sweet. [Exit,
Scene I. — Capulet's Garden, adjoining the House. Enter Romeo.
AN I go forward, when my heart is here?
Enter Benvolio and Mekcutio.
Ben. Romeo! my cousin Romeo! Romeo!
Mer. He is wise;
And, on my life, hath stolen him home to bed.
Ben. He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall. Call, good Mercutio.
Mer. Nay, I'll conjure too. —
Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover!