I'll not endure him.

1 Cap.

He shall be endur'd;

soul

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
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.
Go to, go to,

1 Cap.
You are a saucy boy :-Is't so,

indeed?

This trick may chance to scath' you;-I know what.
You must contráry me! marry, 'tis time-
Well said, my hearts:-You are a princox 2 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,
Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.
I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall,
Now seeming sweet, convert to bitter gall. [Exit.
Rom. If I profane with my unworthy hand

[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 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.

(1) Do you an injury.

(2) A coxcomb.

Rom. Then move not, while my prayer's effect
I take.

Thus from my lips, by yours, 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 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 nurs'd 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.
1 Cap. Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone;
We have a trifling foolish banquet1 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,2 it waxes late;
I'll to my rest. [Exeunt all but Juliet and Nurse.
Jul. Come hither, nurse: What is yon gentleman?
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;

(1) A collation of fruit, wine, &c. (2) Faith,

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 danc'd withal. [One calls within, Juliet.

A rhyme I learn'd even now

Anon, anon:

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

Enter Chorus

[Exeunt.

Now old desire doth in his death bed lie,
And young affection gapes to be his heir;
That fair, 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-An open place, adjoining Capulet's garden. Enter Romeo.

Rom. Can I go forward, when my heart is here? Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out. [He climbs the wall, and leaps down within it. (1) i. e. Himself.

Enter Benvolio, and Mercutio.

Ben. Romeo! my cousin 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! Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh, Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied; Cry but-Ah me! couple but-love and dove; Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word, One nick-name for her purblind son and heir, Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim, When king Cophetua lov'd the beggar-maid. He heareth not, stirreth not, he moveth not; The ape2 is dead, and I must conjure him.I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes, By her high forehead, and her scarlet lip, By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh, And the demesnes that there adjacent lie, That in thy likeness thou appear to us.

Ben. An if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him.
Mer. This cannot anger him: 'twould anger hina
To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle,
Of some strange nature, letting it there stand
Till she had laid it, and conjur'd it down;
That were some spite my invocation

Is fair and honest, and, in his mistress' name,
I conjure only but to raise up him.

Ben. Come, he hath hid himself among those trees,

To be consorted with the humorous3 night:

(1) Alluding to the old ballad of the king and the beggar

(2) This phrase in Shakspeare's time was used as an expression of tenderness.

(3) Humid, moist.

Blind is his love, and best befits the dark.

Mer. If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark. Now will he sit under a medlar-tree,

And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit,
As maids call medlars, when they laugh alone.-
Romeo, good night;-I'll to my truckle-bed;
This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep:

Come, shall we go?
Ben.
Go, then; for 'tis in vain
To seek him here, that means not to be found.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II-Capulet's garden. Enter Romeo. Rom. He jests at scars, that never felt a wound.[Juliet appears above, at a window. But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east, and Juliet is the sun!—
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief,
That thou her maid art far more fair than she
Be not her maid, since she is envious;
Her vestal livery is but sick and green,
And none but fools do wear it; cast it off-
It is my lady; O, it is my love:

O, that she knew she were!

She speaks, yet she says nothing; What of that?
Her eye discourses, I will answer it.-
I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks:
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
Having some business, do entreat her eyes
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would shame those
stars,

As daylight doth a lamp; her eye in heaven
Would through the airy region stream so bright,
That birds would sing, and think it were not night.

(1) A votary to the moon, to Diana.