Go to, go to; You are a saucy 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!

Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting. I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall Now seeming sweet convert to bitter gall. Exit.

To Juliet . If I profane with my unworthiest hand This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.