You will set cock-a-hoop! you'll be the man!

Tybalt.
Why, uncle, 'tis a shame.

Capulet.
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.

Tybalt.
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.]

Romeo.
[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.

Juliet.
Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,