CHORUS. 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 misadventur'd piteous overthrows Doth 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, naught 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.
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