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So shews a snowy dove trooping with crows,
Tyb. This by his voice should be a Montague.
Cap. Why, how now, kinsman, wherefore storm
you so ?
Tyb. Uncle, this is a Montegue, our foe :
Cap. Young Romeo, is't?
Cap. Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone';
Tyb. It fits, when such a villain is a guest.
Cap. He shall be endur'd.
soul. You'll make a mutiny among my guests? You will fit cock-a-hoop ? You'll be the man?
Tyb. Why, uncle, 'tis a fháme.
Cap. Go to, go to, You are a faucy 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.
Tyb. Patience perforce, with wilful choler meeting, Makes my Aesh 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
(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.
7 If I propbane with my un nishment submitted to. So, Ro.
meo would here say, If I have This holy forine, the gentle Sin been profane in the rude touch is this,
of my hand, my lips stands reaMy lips, two blushing pilgrims, dy, as two blushing pilgrims, to &c.] All profanations are fup- take off that offence, to atone posd to be expiated either by for it by a sweet penance. Our fome meritorious action, or by poet therefore must have wrote, fome penance undergone and pu. the gentle Fine is this. WARB. Vol. VIII.
Jul. Saints do not move, yet grant for prayers'
sake. Rom. Then move not, while my prayers' effect I
take : Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purg'd.
[Kiling ber. Jul. Then have my lips the sin that late they took.
Rom. Sin from my lips! O trespass, sweetly urg'd ! Give me my sin again.
Jul. You kiss by th' book.
To ber Nurse.
Rom. Is she a Capulet?
Ben. Away, be gone, the fport is at the best.
Cap. Nay, Gentlemen, prepare not to be gone,
[Exeunt. Jul. Come hither, nurse. What is yon gentleNurse. 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 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,
Jul. My only love sprung from my only hate ;
Nurfe. What's this ? what's this?
Jul. A rhyme I learn'd e'en now
Nurse. Anon, anon-
Now old Desire doth on his death-bed lie,
young Affection gapes to be his heir; That Fair, for 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 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
*CHORUS.) This choras add- of the play, but relates what is ed fince the firft edition. Pope. already known, or what the
Choru!. The use of this cho. next scenes will thew ; and relates rus is not eafily discovered, it it without adding the improveconduces nothing to the progress ment of any moral sentiment.
But Passion lends them power, Time means, to
meet; Temp’ring extremities with extreme sweet.
A CT II. SCEN E I.
Enter Romeo alone.
ANI go forward when my heart is here?
Enter Benvolio, with Mercutio.
Ben. Romeo, my cousin Romeo.
Mer. He is wife, And, on my life, hath stol'n him home to bed. Ben. He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard
wall. Call, good Mercutio.
Mer. Nay, I'll conjure too. Why, Romeo ! humours ! madman! passion! lover! Appear thou in the likeness of a Sigh, Speak but one Rhyme, and I am satisfied. Cry but Ab me ! couple but love and dove, Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word,