Cap. Young Romeo, is't?

Tyb. That villain Romeo.

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 houfe, do him difparagement.,
Therefore be patient, take no note of him;
It is my will, the which if thou respect,
Shew a fair presence, and put off these frowns,
An ill-befeeming semblance for a feast.

Tyb. It fits, when fuch a villain is a guest.
I'll not endure him.

Cap. He fhall be endur'd.

What, goodman boy-I say, he shall. Go to
Am I the mafter here, or you? go to

You'll not endure him! God fhall mend my foul,
You'll make a mutiny among my guests!

You will fet cock-a-hoop? you'll be the man?
Tyb. Why, uncle, 'tis a fhame.

Cap. Go to, go to,

You are a faucy boy -is't fo, indeed ?

This trick may chance to fcathe you; I know what.
You must contrary me! Marry, 'tis time.
Well faid, my hearts: You are a Princox, go :
Be quiet, or (more light, more light, for fhame)
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 intrufion fhall,
Now feeming fweet, convert to bitter gall. -
Rom. If I profane with my unworthy hand
[To Juliet.

*This holy shrine, the gentle Fine is this;
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready ftand,
*This holy fhrine, the gentle Sin is this,]
Our Poet certainly wrote,

the gentle Fine is this.

Το

To smooth that rough Touch with a tender kifs. Jul. Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,

Which mannerly devotion fhews in this;

For Saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmer's kifs.

Rom. Have not faints lips, and holy palmers too? Jul. Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer. Rom. O then, dear faint, let lips do what hands do:

They pray, (grant thou) left faith turn to despair. Jul. Saints do not move, yet grant for prayers' fake. Rom. Then move not, while my prayers' effect I take: Thus from my lips, by thine, my fin is purg'd.

[Kiffing her. Jul. Then have my lips, the fin that late they took. Rom. Sin from my lips! O trefpafs, fweetly urg'd! Give me my fin again.

Jul. You kifs by th' book."

Nurfe. Madam, your mother craves a word with

you.

Rom. What is her mother?
Nurfe. Marry, bachelor,

Her mother is the lady of the house,

[To her Nurfe.

And a good lady, and a wife and virtuous.
I nurs'd her daughter, that you talkt withal:
I tell you, he, that can lay hold of her,
Shall have the chink.

Rom. Is fhe a Capulet?

O dear account! my life is my foe's debt.
Ben. Away, be gone, the fport is at the beft.
Rom. Ay, so I fear, the more is my unreft.
Cap. Nay, Gentlemen, prepare not to be gone,
We have a trifling foolish banquet towards..
Is it e'en fo? why, then, I thank you all.
I thank you, honeft Gentlemen, good-night :
More torches here-come on, then let's to bed,
Ah, firrah, by my fay, it waxes late.

I'll to my Reft.

[Exeunt. Jul.

Jul. Come hither, nurse. What is yon gentleman ? Nurfe. The fon and heir of old Tiberio.

Jul. What's he, that now is going out of door? Nurfe. That, as I think, is young Petruchio.

Jul. What's he, that follows here, that would not dance?

Nurfe. I know not.

Jul. Go, afk his name.-If he be married,
My Grave is like to be my wedding-bed.
Nurfe. His name is Romeo, and a Montague,
The only son of your great enemy.

Jul. My only love fprung from my only hate!
Too early feen, unknown; and known too late ;
Prodigious birth of love it is to me,
That I must love a loathed enemy.
Nurfe. What's this? what's this?
Jul. A rhyme I learn'd e'en now
Of one I danc'd withal.

Nurse. Anon' anon

[One calls within, Juliet.

Come, let's away, the ftrangers all are gone. [Exeunt.

Enter CHORUS.

Now old Defire doth on his death bed lie,
And young Affection gapes to be his heir:
That Fair, which love groan'd fore, and would die,
With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair.
Now Romeo is belov'd, and loves again,

Alike bewitch'd by the charm of looks:
But to his foe fuppos'd he muft complain,

And she steal love's fweet bait from fearful hooks.

Being held a foe, he may not have access

To breathe fuch vows as lovers use to swear; And fhe, as much in love, her means much less, To meet her new-beloved any where: But paffion lends them power, Time means, to meet; Temp'ring extremities with extreme sweet.

[Exit Chorus.

ACT

ΑΝ

CAN I go forward when my heart is here?

Turn back, dull earth, and find thy center out.

Enter Benvolio, with Mercutio.

Ben. Romeo, my cousin Romeo.

.

Mer. He is wife,

[Exit.

And, on my life, hath ftoll'n him home to bed. Ben. He ran this way, and leap'd this orchardwall.

Call, good Mercutio.

Mer. Nay, I'll conjure too.

Why, Romeo! humours! mad-man! paffion! lover! -
Appear thou in the likenefs of a Sigh,

Speak but one Rhyme, and I am fatisfied.
Cry but Ah me! couple but love and dove,
Speak to my goffip Venus one fair word,
One nick-name to her pur-blind fon and heir:
(Young Abraham Cupid, he that shot so true,
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 Rofaline's bright eyes,
By her high fore-head, and her fcarlet lip,
By her fine foot, ftraight leg, and quivering thigh,
And the demeafns 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 ftand

'Till fhe had laid it, and conjur'd it down;
That where fome fpight. My invocation is
Honest and fair, and, in his mistress' name,
I conjure only but to raise up him.

Ben. Come, he hath hid himself among these trees, To be conforted with the hum'rous night:

Blind is his love, and beft befits the dark.

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

And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit,
Which maids call medlars, when they laugh alone.-
Romeo, good-night; I'll to my truckle-bed,

This field-bed is too cold for me to fleep:

Come, fhall we go?

Ben. Go then, for 'tis in vain

To feek him here that means not to be found.

Rom.

H

SCENE

II.

Changes to Capulet' Garden.

Enter Romeo.

[Exeunt.

E jefts at fcars, that never felt a wound-But, foft! what light thro, yonder window breaks?

It is the Eaft, and Juliet is the Sun!

[Juliet appears above, at a window.

Arife, fair Sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already fick and pale with grief,

That thou, her maid, art far more fair than fhe.
Be not her maid, fince fhe is envious:

Her vestal livery is but fick and green,
And none but fools do wear it; caft it off-
She fpeaks, yet fhe fays nothing; what of that?
Her eye difcourfes; I will answer it-

I am too bold, 'tis not to me fhe speaks:
Two of the fairest stars of all the heav'n,
Having fome business, do intreat her eyes

Το