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I'll swear, hath corns; Am I come near you now? You are welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the
day, That I have worn a visor; and could tell A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear, Such as would please ;—'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis
gone: You are welcome, gentlemen !-Come, musicians,
play. A hall! a hall! give room, and foot it, girls.
[Musick plays, and they dance. More light, ye knaves; and turn the tables up, And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot. — Ah, sirrah, this unlook'd-for sport comes well. Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet; For
you and I are past our dancing days: How long is't now, since last yourself and I Were in a mask?
2 Cap. By'r lady, thirty years. 1 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, sir; His son is thirty.
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?
Sero. I know not, sir.
Rom. O, she doth teach the torches to burn
bright! Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night Like 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 happy my rude hand.
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:-
storm you so?
1 Cap. Young Romeo is't?
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-governd 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,
Tyb. It fits, when such a villain is a guest;
lle shall be endur'd; 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
soulYou'll make a mutiny among my guests! You will set cock-a-hoop! you'll be the man!
Tyb. Why, uncle, 'tis a shame. 1 Сар.
Go to, go to, 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 timeWell 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 meet
ing 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
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 de
spair. Jul. Saints do not move, though grant for pray
ers' sake. Rom. Then move not, while my prayer's effect
[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
Is she a Capulet?
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 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;
Nurse. What's this? what's this?
A rhyme I learn’d even now Of one I danc'd withal. [One calls within, Juliet ! Nurse.