Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight!
For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night. 57
Tyb. This, by his voice, should be a Montague.
Fetch me my rapier, boy. What! dares the slave
Come hither, cover'd with an antic face, 60
To fleer and scorn at our solemnity?
Now, by the stock and honour of my kin,
To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.
Cap. Why, how now, kinsman! wherefore storm you so? 64
Tyb. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe;
A villain that is hither come in spite,
To scorn at our solemnity this night.
Cap. Young Romeo, is it?
Tyb. 'Tis he, that villain Romeo. 68
Cap. Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone:
He bears him like a portly gentleman;
And, to say truth, Verona brags of him
To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth. 72
I would not for the wealth of all this town
Here in my house do him disparagement;
Therefore be patient, take no note of him:
It is my will; the which if thou respect, 76
Show a fair presence and put off these frowns,
An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.
Tyb. It fits, when such a villain is a guest:
I'll not endure him.
Cap. He shall be endur'd: 80
What! goodman boy; I say, he shall, go to;
Am I the master here, or you? go to.
You'll not endure him! God shall mend my soul!
60 antic: fantastic
61 fleer: sneer
solemnity: festivity
70 portly: dignified
74 disparagement: indignity
81 goodman: prefixed to names of persons under the rank of gentlemen; often, as here, contemptuously
