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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 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.

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

Tyb. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe;
A villain, that is hither come in spite,
To scorn at our solemnity this night.
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-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, Show 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.

He shall be endur'd;

1 Cap. 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


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 scath you;5-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.
Rom. If I profane with my unworthy hand
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


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'


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.

to scath you;] i. e. to do you an injury.

You are a princox; go:] A princox is a coxcomb, or a spoiled child.

7 [Kissing her.] Our poet here, without doubt, copied from the mode of his own time; and kissing a lady in a publick assembly, we may conclude, was not thought indecorous.




Rom. Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urg'd! Give me my sin again.


You kiss by the book. Nurse. Madam, your mother craves a word with you.

Rom. What is her mother?

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. [Exeunt 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?

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.

8 towards.] Towards is ready, at hand.

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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?

Of one I danc'd withal

Come, let's away; the strangers all are gone.

A rhyme I learn'd even now [One calls within, JULIET. Anon, anon:


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.



SCENE I. An open Place, adjoining Capulet's Garden.

Enter ROMEO.

Rom. Can I go forward, when my heart is here?

9 That fair,] Fair, it has been already observed, was formerly used as a substantive, and was synonymous to beauty.

Turn back, dull earth, and find thy center out. [He climbs the Wall, and leaps down within it.


Ben. Romeo! my cousin Romeo!

He is wise;

And, on my life, hath stolen him home to bed. Ben. He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall:

Call, good Mercutio.

Mer. Nay, I'll conjure too. Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover! Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh, Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied; Cry but-Ah me! couple but-love and dove; Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word, One nick-name for her purblind son and heir, Young Adam Cupid, he that shot to trim, When king Cophetua lov'd the beggar-maid.'He heareth not, stirreth not, he moveth not; The ape is dead, and I must conjure him.I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes, By her high forehead, and her scarlet lip, By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh, And the demesnes that there adjacent lie, That in thy likeness thou appear to us.


Ben. An if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him. Mer. This cannot anger him 'twould anger him

1 When king Cophetua, &c.] Alluding to an old ballad preserved in the first Volume of Dr. Percy's Reliques of ancient English Poetry.

2 The ape is dead,] This phrase appears to have been frequently applied to young men, in our author's time, without any reference to the mimickry of that animal. It was an expression of tenderness, like poor fool.

3 By her high forehead,] A high forehead was in Shakspeare's time thought eminently beautiful.

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