ROMEO:
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,
Which mannerly devotion shows in this;
For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,
And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.
ROMEO:
Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?
JULIET
Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.
ROMEO:
O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;
They pray, grant thou, lest faith turns to despair.
JULIET:
Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.
ROMEO:
Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take
