Mad Blood is Stirring

Two lovers, both alike in nobility,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
From ancient friendship break to new love,
Where civil words makes civil minds unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two lovers,
A pair of star-cross'd lovers make secret love;
Whose misadventur'd piteous ventures
Doth with their falls bury their friendship's strife.
The fearful passage of their strife-mark'd love,
And the diminishment of their parents' rage,
Which, but their children's fall, nought 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.