You kiss by the book.

Nurse.
Madam, your mother craves a word with you.

Romeo.
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 nurs'd her daughter that you talk'd withal;
I tell you, he that can lay hold of her
Shall have the chinks.

Romeo.
Is she a Capulet?
O dear account! my life is my foe's debt.

Benvolio.
Away, be gone; the sport is at the best.

Romeo.
Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest.

Capulet.
Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone;
We have a trifling foolish banquet towards.--
Is it e'en so? why then, I thank you all;