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- O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night As a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear — Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows. The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand And, touching hers, make blessèd my rude hand. Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight, For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.
- Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, Which mannerly devotion shows in this; [Juliet places the palm of her hand against Romeo’s] For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.
- If I profane with my unworthiest hand This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: [Romeo takes Juliet’s hand] My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
- [returning] His name is Romeo, and a Montague, The only son of your great enemy.
- Go ask his name. [The nurse goes} If he be marrièd, My grave is like to be my wedding bed.
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