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2 Cap.

By-'r-lady, thirty years.

I Cap. What, man! 'tis not so much, 'tis not so much :

'Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio,

Come Pentecost as quickly as it will,

Some five-and-twenty years; and then we mask'd. 2 Cap. 'Tis more, 'tis more; his son is elder,

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His son is thirty.

I Cap.

Will you tell me that?

His son was but a ward two years ago.

Rom. What lady's that, which doth enrich the hand

Of yonder knight?

Serv.

I know not, sir.

Rom. O, she doth teach the torches to burn

bright!

Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night
As a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear:

Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!
So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows,
As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows.

The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand,
And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand.
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, cover'd with an antic face,
To fleet and scorn at our solemnity?
Now, by the stock and honour of my kin,
To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.

1 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.
1 Cap. Young Romeo is 't?

Tyb.

'Tis he, that villain Romeo.

1 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-govern'd youth:
I would not for the wealth of all the 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.

I Cap.

He shall be endured. What, goodman boy!-I say, he shall;-go to ;

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!
Tyb. Why, uncle, 'tis a shame.

I Cap.

Go to, go to,

You are a saucy boy.-Is 't so indeed?

This trick may chance to scathe you ;-I know what.

You must contràry 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 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?

ful. 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 prayers' 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.

Jul.

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 talk'd 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, begone; the sport is at the best.
Rom. Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest.
I 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 [to 2 CAP.], by my fay, it waxes late; I'll to my rest. [Exeunt all but JULIET and Nurse. Jul. Come hither, nurse: what is yon 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 loathèd enemy.

Nurse. What's this?

Jul.

What's this?

A rhyme I learn'd even now

Of one I danced withal.

Nurse.

[One calls within "Juliet." Anon, anon:—

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

[Exeunt.

Enter CHORUS.

Now old desire doth in his death-bed lie,
And young affection gapes to be his heir;
That fair, for which love groaned for, and would
die,

With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair.
Now Romeo is beloved, and loves again,

Alike bewitch'd by the charm of looks;

But to his foe supposed 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-belovèd anywhere: But passion lends them power, time means, to

meet,

Tempering extremities with extreme sweet.

[Exit.

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