Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight!
For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.

Tyb. This, by his voice, should be a Montague.— Fetch me my rapier, boy.-What! dares the slave Come hither, covered with an antick 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.
Cap. Young Romeo is't?

Tyb.

'T is he, that villain Romeo. Cap. Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone, He bears him like a portly gentleman; And, to say truth, Verona brags of him To be a virtuous and well-governed youth: I would not for the wealth of all this town Here in my house do him disparagement : Therefore be patient, take no note of him: It is my will, the which if thou respect, Show a fair presence and put off these frowns, An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.

Tyb. It fits, when such a villain is a guest :
I'll not endure him.

Cap.
He shall be endured:
What! goodman boy!-I say, he shall :-go to;
Am I the master here, or you? go to.

Tyb. Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting
Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.
I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall,

Now seeming sweet, convert to bitter gall. [Exit. Rom. [To JULIET.] If I profane with my unworthiest hand

This holy shrine, the gentle sin 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 shows 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 purged.

[Kissing her.

Jul. Then have my lips the sin that they have

took.

Rom. Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly

urged!

Give me my sin again.

Ful.

You kiss by the 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 :
I nursed her daughter, that you talked withal;

I tell you, he that can lay hold of her

Shall have the chinks.

Rom.

Is she a Capulet?

O dear account! my life is my foe's debt.

Ben. Away, be gone; the sport is at the best.

Rom. Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest.
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!

[Exeunt all but JULIET and Nurse. Jul. Come hither, nurse. What is yond gentle

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 there, 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!
Too early seen unknown, and known too late!
Prodigious birth of love it is to me,
That I must love a loathed enemy.
Nurse. What's this? what's this?
Jul.

Of one I danced withal.

Nurse.

A rhyme I learned even now

[One calls within, "Juliet." Anon, anon!

Come, let's away; the strangers all are gone.

[Exeunt.