To scorn at our solemnity this night.

Capulet.
Young Romeo, is it?

Tybalt.
'Tis he, that villain, Romeo.

Capulet.
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:
I would not for the wealth of all the 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,
Show a fair presence and put off these frowns,
An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.

Tybalt.
It fits, when such a villain is a guest:
I'll not endure him.

Capulet.
He shall be endur'd:
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,
You'll make a mutiny among my guests!