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.
Come, come with me, and we will make short work; For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone Till holy church incorporate two in one.
Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee Doth much excuse the appertaining rageTo such a greeting. Villain am I none. Therefore farewell; I see thou knowest me not.
But I'll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery. Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower; Your worship, in that sense, may call him 'man.'
But I'll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery. Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower; Your worship, in that sense, may call him 'man.'