was a
sincere and passionate lover, and one that lost his sleep for love, and
fled society to be alone, thinking on Rosaline, who disdained him, and
never requited his love, with the least show of courtesy or affection;
and Benvolio wished to cure his friend of this love by showing him
diversity of ladies and company. To this feast of Capulets then young
Romeo with Benvolio and their friend Mercutio went masked. Old Capulet
bid them welcome, and told them that ladies who had their toes unplagued
with corns would dance with them. And the old man was light hearted and
merry, and said that he had worn a mask when he was young, and could
have told a whispering tale in a fair lady's ear. And they fell to
dancing, and Romeo was suddenly struck with the exceeding beauty of a
lady who danced there, who seemed to him to teach the torches to burn
bright, and her beauty to show by night like a rich jewel worn by a
blackamoor; beauty too rich for use, too dear for earth! like a snowy
dove trooping with crows (he said), so richly did her beauty and
perfections shine above the ladies her companions. While he uttered
these praises, he was overheard by Tybalt, a nephew of Lord Capulet, who
knew him by his voice to be Romeo. And this Tybalt, being of a fiery and
passionate temper, could not endure that a Montague should come under
cover of a mask, to fleer and scorn (as he said) at their solemnities.
And he stormed and raged exceedingly, and would have struck young Romeo
dead. But his uncle, the old Lord Capulet, would not suffer him to do
any injury at that time, both out of respect to his guests, and because
Romeo had borne himself like a gentleman, and all tongues in Verona
bragged of him to be a virtuous and well-governed youth. Tybalt, forced
to be patient against his will, restrained himself, but swore that this
vile Montague should at another time dearly pay for his intrusion.

The dancing being done, Romeo watched the place where the lady stood;
and under favour of his masking habit, which might seem to excuse in
part the liberty, he presumed in the gentlest manner to take her by the
hand, calling it a shrine, which if he profaned by touching it, he was a
blushing pilgrim, and would kiss it for atonement. "Good pilgrim,"
answered the lady, "your devotion shows by far too mannerly and too
courtly: saints have hands, which pilgrims may touch, but kiss
not."--"Have not saints lips, and pilgrims too?" said Romeo. "Ay," said
the lad