Cap.
Welcome, gentlemen; ladies, that have your feet
Unplagu'd with corns, we'll have a bout with you.
Who'll now deny to dance? She that makes dainty,
I'll swear hath corns. Am I come near you, now?
Welcome all, gentlemen. I've seen the day
That I have worn a visor, and could tell
A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear,

Such as would please. 'Tis gone; 'tis gone; 'tis gone!
More light, ye knaves, and turn the tables up;
And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot,
Ah, sirrah, this unlook'd-for sport comes well.
Nay sit, nay sit, good cousin Capulet.
For you and I are past our dancing days.
How long is't, now, since last yourself and I
Were in a mask?

2 Cap.
By'r lady, thirty years.

Cap.
What, man! 'tis not so much, 'tis not so much!
'Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio,
Come Penticost as quickly as it will,
Some five and twenty years; and then we mask'd.

2 Cap.
'Tis more. 'tis more; his son is elder, sir:
His son is thirty.

Cap.
Will you tell me that?
His son was but a ward, two years ago. [A Flourish of Music.

Rom.
Cousin Benvolio, do you mark that lady,
Which doth enrich the hand of yonder gentleman.* ^note

Ben.
I do.

Rom.
Oh, she doth teach the torches how to shine;
Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night,
Like a rich jewel in an Æthiops' ear;
The measure done, I'll watch her to her place,
And touching hers, make happy my rude hand.
Be still, be still, my fluttering heart.

Tib.
This, by his voice, should be a Montague,
Fetch me my rapier, boy. What, dares the slave
Come hither, cover'd with an antic face,
To fleer and scorn at our solemnity?
Now, by the stock and honour of my race,
To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.

Cap.
Why, how now, kinsman, wherefore storm you thus?

Tib.
Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe;

A villain, that is hither come, in spite,
To scorn and flout at our solemnity.

Cap.
Young Romeo, is't?

Tib.
That villain, Romeo.

Cap.
Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone,
He bears him like a courtly 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.

Tib.
It fits, when such a villain is a guest.
I'll not endure him.

Cap.
He shall be endur'd.* ^note
Be quiet, cousin, or I'll make you quiet—

Tib.
Patience perforce, with wilful choler meeting,
Makes my flesh tremble in their difference.
I will withdraw; but, this intrusion shall,
Now seeming sweet, convert to bitter gall. [Dance here.† ^note

Rom.
If I profane with my unworthy hand, [To Jul.
This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this. [Kiss.

Jul.
Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,
For palm to palm, is holy palmer's kiss.

Rom.
Have not saints lips, and holy palmers, too?

Jul.
Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.

Rom.
Thus then, dear saint, let lips put up their prayers. [Kiss.

Nurse.
Madam, your mother craves a word with you.

Ben.
What is her mother? [To her Nurse

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 on her,
Shall have the chink.

Ben.
Is she a Capulet?
Romeo, let's be gone, the sport is over.

Rom.
Ay, so I fear, the more is my mishap.

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 supper. [Exeunt.

Jul.
Come hither, nurse. What is yon gentleman?

Nurse.
The son and heir, of old Tiberio.

Jul.
What's he that is now a going out of door?

Nurse.
That, as I think, is young Mercutio.

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.

Nurse.
What's this? what's this!

Jul.
A rhime I learn'd, e'en now,
Of one I talk'd withal.

Nurse.
Come, let's away, the strangers are all gone.† ^note [Exeunt.* ^note End of the First Act.

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