ROMEO: O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night Like 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 blessed my rude hand. Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night. ROMEO: 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. JULIET: 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. ROMEO: Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too? JULIET: Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer. ROMEO: O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair. JULIET: Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake. ROMEO: Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take. (He kisses her.) Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged. JULIET: Then have my lips the sin that they have took. ROMEO: Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again. (He kisses her again.) (Nurse interrupts, telling Juliet her mother wants her.) ROMEO: (To Nurse) What is her mother? NURSE: Marry, bachelor, Her mother is the lady of the house, And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous. *I nursed her daughter