Have not saint's lips, and holy palmers too?

Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.

Well, then dear saint, let lips do what hands do; They pray grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.

Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.

Then move not while my prayers' effect I take.

Thus, from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged.

Then have my lips the sin that they have took?

Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.

You kiss by the book.

Juliet? J-J-Juliet!

Madam, your mother craves a word with you.

Come, lets away.

Is she a Capulet?

His name is Romeo, and he's a Montague - The only son of your great enemy.