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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”; 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. [Erit.
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.
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 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. [Ereunt 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 2

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.

INurse. What's this 2 what's this 2

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.

- [Ereunt,

Enter Chorus”.

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. [Erit.

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