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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

610 Were in a mask?

2 Cap. By'r lady, thirty years. 1 Cap. What, man! 'tis not so much,; 'tis not se

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, șir His son is thirty.

1 Cap. Will you tell me that? His son was but a ward two years ago.

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

hand of yonder knight

al Sert'. I know not, sir, Rom. O, shę doth teach the torches to burn

bright! Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night

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Like a rich jewel in an Æthiop's ear:
Beauty too rich for use; for earth too dear!
So shews a snowy dove trooping with crows, '
As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows:
The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand, 630
And, touching her's, make happy my rude hand.
Did
my

heart love 'till now fórswear 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 antick face, To fleer and scorn at our solemnity? Now, by the stock and honour of my kin, To strike him dead I hold it not a sin: 51 Cap. Why, how now, kinsman? wherefore storm

649 Tyb. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe; A villain, that is hither come in spight, To scorn at our solemnity this night. * * Cap. Young Romeo is't x

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 this town, 656 Here in my house, do him disparagement: Therefore be patient, take no note of him, It is my will; the which if thou respect,

Shew

you so?

Shew 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 endur'd; What, goodman boy !-- I say, he shall:-Go to;Am I the master here, or you ?. go to.

660 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, : 1 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 contrary 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. 671

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. If I profane with my unworthy hand

[To Juliet. This holy shrine, the gentle fine is thisMy lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand

To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. Jub. Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,

680 D

Which

Which mannerly devotion shews 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. 690

[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 ; 700
I tell you—he, that can lay hold of her,
Shall have the chink.
Rom. Is she a Capulet?

O dear

all;

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
I thank you, hopest gentlemen; good night :- 710
More torches here!.-Come on, then let's to bed.
Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late ;
I'll to my rest.

[Exeunt. 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. That, as I think, is young

Petruchio.
Jul. What's hè, that follows there, that would not

dance ? Nurse. I know not. Jul. Go, ask his name :

-if he be married, 720 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.

Nurse. What's this? What's this?

Jul. A rhyme I learn'd even now Of one I danc'd withal.

h30 [One calls within, JULIET, Dij

Nurse,

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