From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
Which, but their children’s end, naught could remove
The fearful passage of their death-marked love,
Is now the two hours’ traffic of our stage
Doth with their death bury their parents’ strife.
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean
Two households, both alike in dignity,
The which if you with patient ears attend
And the continuance of their parents’ rage,
Whose misadventured piteous overthrows
A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life;
Break out in renewed violence due to an old grudge.
If you will listen patiently,
The sad story if their ill-fated love,
Two equally respected families,
The son of one enemy and the daughter of the other,
Which nothing except their children’s deaths could end,
Their unfortunate, pitiful deaths
you will see acted in the next two hours on our stage.
the townspeople soil their hands with each other’s blood.
our play will fill in what is missing from the prologue.
bury their parents’ quarrel.
and their parents continuing anger,
living in lovely Verona, where our play is set,
victims of unfavorable fate, commit suicide.
