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, sir; His son is thirty.

L

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

Rom. O, she doth teach the torches to burn

bright!

:

Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night

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 ? forswear 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 antiek 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.

1 Cap. Why, how now, kinsman? wherefore storm

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?
Tyb. 'Tis he, that villain Romeo.

640

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

650

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.

1 Cap. He shall be endur'd;

660

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 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.
Rom. If I profane with my unworthy hand

[Exit.

[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,

680

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 ;
I tell you-he, that can lay hold of her,
Shall have the chink.

Rom. Is she a Capulet?

700

O dear

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 :- 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.

Dij

730

[One calls within, JULIET, Nurse.