PROLOGUE 


Two  households, both alike in dignity, 
In  fair Verona, where we lay our scene, 
From  ancient grudge break to new mutiny, 
Where  civil blood makes civil hands unclean. 
From  forth the fatal loins of these two foes 
A  pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life; 
Whose  misadventured piteous overthrows 
Do  with their death bury their parents' strife. 
The  fearful passage of their death-mark'd love, 
And  the continuance of their parents' rage, 
Which,  but their children's end, nought could remove, 
Is  now the two hours' traffic of our stage; 
The  which if you with patient ears attend, 
What  here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.