Young Romeo is it? Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone; He shall be endured. I say, he shall. Go to. Am I the master here, or you? Go to. You'll not endure him! — God shall mend my soul!
Tybalt
Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe, A villain that is hither come in spite, To scorn at our solemnity this night. Tis he, that villain Romeo.
What lady is that, which doth enrich the hand Of yonder knight?
I know not, sir.
If I profane with my unworthiest hand This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this. My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?
Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, Which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.
Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.
O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;They pray, grant thou lest faith turn to despair.
Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.
Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take.[He kisses her]Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.
*KISS*
Then have my lips the sin that they have took.
Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.
You kiss by the book.
Madam, your mother craves a word with you. His name is Romeo, and a Montague, The only son of your great enemy.
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.
Is she a Capulet? O dear account! My life is my foe's debt.