He shall be endured; 1 Cap. What, goodman boy! I say, he shall 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! Go to, go to ; 1 Cap. You are a saucy boy :-is 't so, indeed? This trick may chance to scathe you; what. 1-I know You must contrary me! marry, 'tis time Ty. Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting, [Exit. [to Juliet. This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand To smoothe that rough touch with a tender kiss. Ju. Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, Which mannerly devotion shows in this; 1 Do you an injury. 2 Coxcomb. For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss. Ro. Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too? Ju. Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer. Ro. O then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair. Ju. Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake. Ro. Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take. Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged. [kissing her. Ju. Then have my lips the sin that they have took. Ro. Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again. Ju. You kiss by the book.1 Nurse. Madam, your mother craves a word with you. Ro. What is her mother? Nurse. Marry, bachelor, Her mother is the lady of the house, And a good lady, and a wise, and virtuous : ■ Methodically, Is she a Capulet? Ro. O dear account! my life is my foe's debt. Ben. Away; begone: the sport is at the best. 1 Cap. Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone; We have a trifling foolish banquet towards.— Is it ev'n 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,1 it waxes late; I'll to my rest. [Exeunt all but Juliet and Nurse. Ju. Come hither, nurse: what is yon gentleman? Nurse. The son and heir of old Tiberio. Ju. What's he, that now is going out of door? Nurse. Marry, that, I think, be young Petruchio. Ju. What's he, that follows there, that would not dance? Nurse. I know not. Ju. 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. Ju. My only love sprung from my only hate! A rhyme I learn'd even now 1 Faith. |