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.

Cap.

Go to, go to;

You are a saucy boy. - Is't so, indeed? This trick may chance to scath you; 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!
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.
Rom. If I profane with my unworthiest 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,

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

prayer.

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'

sake.

Rom. Then move not, while my prayer's effect I

take.

Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purg'd.

[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 b' th' 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 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, by my fay, it waxes late;

I'll to my rest. [Exeunt all but JULIET and Nurse.
Jul. Come hither, nurse. What is yond' 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 here, 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.

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. [One calls within, "Juliet!"

Nurse.

Anon, anon:—

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

Enter CHORUS.

[Exeunt.

Now old desire doth in his death-bed lie,

And young affection gapes to be his heir: That fair, for 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. [Exit.

CAN

YAN I go forward, when my heart is here? Turn back, dull Earth, and find thy centre out. [He approaches the house.

Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO.

Ben. Romeo! my cousin Romeo! Romeo!

Mer.

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!' pronounce but 'love' and 'dove';
Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word,

One nick-name for her purblind son and heir,
Young auburn Cupid, he that shot so trim,
When King Cophetua lov'd the beggar maid.
He heareth not, he 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 To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle

Of some strange nature, letting it there stand
Till she had laid it, and conjur'd it down;
That were some spite. My invocation

Is fair and honest, and, in his mistress' name,

I conjure only but to raise up him.

Ben. Come, he hath hid himself among these

trees,

To be consorted with the humorous night:

Blind is his love, and best befits the dark.

Mer. If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark. Now will he sit under a medlar tree,

And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit,
As maids call medlars when they laugh alone. —
O Romeo! that she were, O, that she were
An open et cætera, thou a poprin pear!
Romeo, good night: -I'll to my truckle-bed;
This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep.
Come, shall we go?

Ben.

Go, then; for 'tis in vain To seek him here, that means not to be found.

Rom. He jests at scars, that never felt a wound. But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? [JULIET appears above at her window.

It is the East, and Juliet is the sun!

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with grief,

That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she:
Be not her maid, since she is envious;
Her vestal livery is but pale and green,

And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.

[JULIET steps out upon a balcony.