So shews a snowy dove trooping with crows, Tyb. This, by his voice, should be a Montague. Fetch me my rapier, boy.—What! dares the slave Come hither, cover'd with an antic face, To fleer and scorn at our solemnity? Now, by the stock and honour of my kin, To strike him dead I hold it not a sin. Cap. Why, how now, kinsman! wherefore storm you so? Tyb. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe; A villain, that is hither come in spite, To scorn at our solemnity this night. Tyb. "Tis he, that villain Romeo. Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone; He bears him like a portly gentleman ; Tyb. It fits, when such a villain is a guest. - go to; Cap. He shall be endur'd: What! goodman boy! I say, he shall; Am I the master here, or you? go to. You'll not endure him! - God shall mend my soul You'll make a mutiny among my guests. You will set cock-a-hoop! you'll be the man! Cap. Go to, go to; You are a saucy boy. Is't so, indeed? This trick may chance to scath you; I know what. You must contrary me! marry, 'tis time Well said, my hearts! — You are a princox; go: Be quiet, or More light, more light!-for shame! I'll make you quiet; What! - Cheerly, my hearts! Tyb. Patience perforce with wilful choler meet ing, [Exit. Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting. This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this, - 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. [Kissing her. Jul. Then have my lips the sin that they have took. Rom. Sin from my lips? O, 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, And a good lady, and a wise, and virtuous. Shall have the chinks. Rom. Is she a Capulet? O, 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: I'll to my rest. [Exeunt all but JULIET and Nurse. man ? Nurse. The son and heir of old Tiberio. Jul. What's he, that now is going out of door? 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; The only son of your great enemy. Jul. My only love sprung from my only hate! That I must love a loathed enemy. 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. Enter CHORUS. Now old desire doth in his death-bed lie, And young affection gapes to be his heir: [Exeunt. 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. ACT II. SCENE I. — CAPULET'S Garden, adjoining the House. Enter ROMEO. ROMEO. (AN I go forward, when my heart is here? CAN I Turn back, dull Earth, and find thy centre out. [He approaches the house. Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO. Ben. Romeo! my cousin Romeo! Romeo! Mer. He is wise; And, on my life, hath stolen him home to bed. Mer. Nay, I'll conjure too. Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover! Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh: Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied; Cry but Ah me!' pronounce but 'love' and 'dove'; One nick-name for her purblind son and heir, He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not; I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes, By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh, That in thy likeness thou appear to us. |