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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 intrusion shall,
Now feeming fweet, convert to bitter gall.
Rom. If I profane with my unworthy hand
[To Juliet.
This holy fhrine, the gentle Fine is this;
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand,
To fmooth that rough Touch with a tender kifs.
Jul. Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too

Which mannerly devotion fhews in this;
For Saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,
And palm to palm is holy palmers' kifs.

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

They pray, grant thou, left faith turn to despair.

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Jul. Saints do not move, yet grant for prayers*


Rom. Then move not, while my prayers' effect I

take :

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

[Kiffing ber. 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 kils by th' book.

Nurfe. Madam, your mother craves a word with


Rom. What is her mother?

Nurse. 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 best.
Rom. Ay, fo I fear, the more is my unrest.
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. Come hither, nurfe. 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



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 fon 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 muft 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.

Nurfe. Anon, anon

[One calls within, Juliet.

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



Now old Defire doth on his death-bed lie,
And young Affection gapes to be his heir;
That Fair, for which love groan'd fore, and would

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 fuppos'd he must 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 lefs, To meet her new-beloved any where:

CHORUS] This chorus added fince the first edition. PorE. Chorus. The use of this chorus is not easily discovered, it conduces nothing to the progrefs

of the play, but relates what is already known, or what the next scenes will fhew; and relates it without adding the improvement of any moral fentiment.

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But Paffion lends them power, Time means, to

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YAN I go forward when my heart is here?
Turn back, dull earth, and find thy center out.


Enter Benvolio, with Mercutio.

Ben. Romeo, my coufin Romeo.

Mer. He is wife,


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


Call, good Mercutio.

Mer. Nay, I'll conjure too.

Why, Romeo! humours! madman! paffion! lover!
Appear thou in the likeness of a Sigh,
Speak but one Rhyme, and I am fatisfied.
Cry but Ab 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 fhot so true,

9 When King Cophetua lov'd the beggar-maid-) He heareth not, he ftirreth not, he moveth not, The ape is dead, and I must conjure him.

I conjure thee by Rofaline's bright eyes,
By her high forehead, and her fcarlet lip,

By her fine foot, ftraight leg, and quivering thigh,
And the demefns 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 raife a fpirit in his mistress' circle,

Of fome ftrange nature, letting it there ftand
'Till she had laid it, and conjur'd it down;
That were fome fpight. My invocation is
Honeft and fair, and, in his mistress' name,
I conjure only but to raise up him.

Ben. Come, he hath hid himself among thefe 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 with 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.


9 When King Cophetua, &r.] Alluding to an old ballad. Pors.

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