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 misadventured piteous overthrows
Do 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, 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.
Should anyone have guessed that in the end, the children of the two rival families would end up in love, most everyone would have called them crazy. The Edwards and the Goldsworthys were notoriously enemies, and most would speculate the children had never laid eyes on each other. Perhaps that was the mistake of their fathers. Without prior knowledge, evil does not have a face, and can take any form, including that of a lover. But the children must pay for the sins of their fathers, and that is the story told today. Love prevails, even in death, because sometimes, in life, love is not enough.