Cap. Humbug! Do you two young ones ’spose
I’ll have this billing under my very nose?
Vile Montague, begone, or you shall sweat!
I’m on my native heath, my name is Capulet.
Jul. Give me my Romeo, or I shall die:
I’ll cut him up in little stars—
Rom. Oh, my!
Cap. No, no, my child, you’ll cut up no such capers:
Do you want to figure in the Boston papers?
Go home and sew, and so your morals mend: