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Sam. No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir; Once more, on paip of death, all men depart. but I bite my thumb, sir.

(E.xeunt Prince, and Attendants; Capulet, LoGre. Do you quarrel, sir.

dy Capulet, Tybalt, Citizens, and Serpentă. dor. Quarrel, sir? no, sir.

Mon. Who set this ancient quarrel new abruach? Sam. If you do, sir, I am for you ; I serve as good a Speak, nephew, were you by, when it began? man as you.

Ben. Here were the servants of your adversary, Abr. No better.

And yours, close fighting ere I did approach:
Sam. Well, sir.

I drew to part them; in the instant came
Enter Benvolio, at a distance.

The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepard;
Gre. Say-better: here comes one of my master's / Which, as he breatha dcfiance to my ean,

He swung about his head, and cut the winds, kinsmen.

Who, nothing hurt withal, lisad him in seern: Sam. Yes, better, sir.

While we were interchanging thrusts and blows, Abr. You lie.

Came more and more, and fought on part ard pari, Sam. Draw, if you be men.-Gregory, remember

Till the prince carne, who parted either part. thy swashing blow.

[They fight. Ben. Part, fools; put up your swords; you know

La. Mon. O, where is Romeo !-saw you him ? not what you do. [Beats down their swords.

Right glad I am, he was not at this fray.
Enter Tybalto

Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd se
Tyb. What, art thou drawn among these heartless Peer'd forth the gollen window of the east,

A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad; Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death.

Where,-underceath the stove of syeartiore, Ben. I do but keep the peace; put up thy sword), That westwarl rooteth from the city's side, Or manage it to part these men with me.

So early walking did I see your son :
Tyb. What, drawn, and talk of peace? I hate the Towards him I made: but he was 'rare of me,

And stole into the covert of the wood:
As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee :

I. measuring his affections bș my own,
Have at thee, coward.

[They fight. That most are busied when they are most aloneEnter several Partizans of both Houses, toho join the

Pursu'd my humour, not pursuing his,

And gladly shuna'd who gladly fled from me. fray; then enter Citizens, with clubs.

Mon. Many a morning bath he there beeni sern, Cil. Clubs, bills, and partizans! strike! beat them

With tears augmenting the fresh moraing's d-*, down!

Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sigtis: Down with the Capulets ! down with the Montagues !

But all so soon as the all-cheering sun
Enter Capulet in his gown; and Lady Capulet. Should in the furthest east begin to draw
Cap. What noise is this?-Give me my long sword, || Away from light steals home my heavy son,

The shady curtains from Aumra's bed,
La. Cap. A crutch, a crutch !-Why call you for a

And private in his chamber pens himself;

Shuts up his windows, locks fair day-light oul, swoul?

And makes himself an artificial night:
Cap. My sword, I say!-old Montagne is cóme,

Black and portentous must this humour prore,
And flourishes his blade in spite of me.

Unless good counsel may the cause remove. Enner Montague and Lady Montague.

Ben. My noble uncle, do you kaow the cause? Mon. Thou villain, Capulet.-IIold me not, let me Mon. I neither know it, nor can learn of him.

Ben. Have you importun'd him by any mean!
La. Mon. Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe. Mon. Both by myself, and many other friends:

But he, his own affections' counsellor,
Enter Prince, with Attendants.

Is to himself-I will not say, how true
Prince. Rehellious subjects, enemies to peace, But to himself so secret and so close,
Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,-

So far from sounding and discovery,
Will they not bear ? what ho! you men, you beasts, As is the bud bit with an envious worm,
– That quench che fire of your pernicious rage Ere he can spread his sweet leavus to the air,
With purple fountains issuing from your veins, Or dedieate his beauty to the sun.
On pain of torture, from those bloody hands

Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow,
Throw your mis-temper'd weapons to the ground, We would as willingly give care, as know.
And hear the sentence of your moved prince.

Enter Romeo, at a distance.
Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word,
By thee, old Capulet, and Montague,

Ben. See, where he comes : So please you, steps
Have thrice disturbåd the quiet of our streets ;

side ; And made Verona's ancient citizens

I'll know his grievance, or be much denied. Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments,

Mon. I would, thou wert so happy by thy stay, To wield old partizans, in hands as old,

To hear true shrift.-Come, madam, let's 2925. Cankerd with peace, to part your canker'd hate:

[Exeunt Montague and beauty If ever yon disturb our streets again,

Ben. Good morrow, cousin.
Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.


Is the day sa young
For this time, all the rest depart away:

Ben. But new struck nine.
You, Capulet, shall go along with me;


Alt me! sad hours ago bunç. And, Moutague, come you this afternoon,

Was that my father that went hence so fast? To know our further pleasure in this case,

Ben. It was :-What sadness lengthens Rossi To old Free-town, our common judgement-place


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Rom. Not having that, which, having, makes them Rom. O, teach me how I should forget to think. short.

Ben. By giving liberty unto thine eyes ; Ben. In love?

Examine other beauties. Rom. Out


'Tis the way Ben. Of love?

To call hers, exquisite, in question more:
Rom. Out of her favour, where I am in love. These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' browa,
Ben. Alas, that love, so gentle in his view,

Being black, put us in mind they hide the fair ;
Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! He, that is strucken blind, cannot forget

Rem. Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, The precious treasure of his eyesight lost: Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will ! Show me a mistress that is passing fair, Where shall we dine?-O me!--What tray was here? What doth her beauty serve, but as a note Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.

Where I may read, who pass'd that passing fair? Here's much to do with hate, but more with love: Farewell; thou canst not teach me to forget. Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate!

Ben. I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt. O any thing, of nothing first create !

[E.xeunt, O heavy lightness ! serious vanity!

SCENE II.- A Street. Enter Capulet, Paris, and Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms!

Servant. Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health!

Cap. And Montague is bound as well as I, Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is !

In penalty alike; and 'uis not hard, I think,
This love feel I, that feel no love in this,

For men so old as we to keep the peace.
Dost thou not laugh?
No, coz, I rather weep.

Par. Of honourable reckoning are you both ;

And picy 'tis, you liv'd at odds so long.
Rom. Good heart, at what ?

At thy good heart's oppression. But now, my lord, what say yon to my suit ?
Rom. Why such is love's transgression.

Cap. But saying o'er what I have said before: Griefs of mine owo lie heavy in my breast;

My child is yet a stranger in the world,

She hath not seen the change of fourteen years; Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest With more of thine : this love, that thou hast shown,

Let two more summers wither in their pride, Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.

Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride. Love is a sinoke rais d with the fume of sighs;

Par. Younger than she are happy mothers made. Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes :

Cap. And too soop marr'd are those so early made. Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears:

The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she, What is it else? a madness most discreet,

She is the hopeful lady of my earth: A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.

But woo ber, gentle Paris, get her heart, Farewell, my coz.


My will to her consent is but a part;
Soft, I will go along;

An she agree, within her scope of choice
And if you leave me so, you do me wrong.

Lies my consent and fair according voice. Rom. Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here;

This night I bold an old accustom'd feast, This is not Romeo, he's some other where.

Whereto I have invited many a guest, Ben. Tell me in sadness, who she is you love?

Such as I love; and you, among the store, Rom. What, slzall I groan, and tell thee?

One more, most welcome, makes my number more. Pen.

Groan? why, no;

At my poor house, look to behold this night But sadly tell me, who.

Earth-treading stars, that make dark heaven light: Rom. Bid a sick man in sadness make his will:

Such comfort, as do lusty young men feet Ah, word ill urg'd to one that is so ill !

When well-apparelld April on the beel In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.

of limping Winter treads, even such delight Ben. I aim'd so near, when I suppos'd you lor'd.

Among fresh female buds shall you this night Rom. A right good marksman and she's fair I

Inherit at my house; hear all, all sce, love.

And like her most, whose merit most shall be : Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit.

Such, amongst view of many, mine, being one, Rom. Well, in that hit, you miss: she'll not be hit

May stand in number, though in reckoning node. With Cupid's arrow, she hath Dian's wit;

Come, go with me.-Go, sirrah, trudge about And, in strong pruof of chastity well arm'd,

Through fair Verona; find those persons out, From love's weak childish bow she lives unbarm d. Whose names are written there ; [Gives a paper.) anu She will not stay the siege of loving terms,

to them say, Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes,

My house and welcome on their pleasures stay. Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold :

[Exeunt Capulet and Paris. O, she is rich in beauty; only poor,

Serv. Find them out, whose names are written bere? That, when she dies, with beauty dies her store, It is written-that the shoemaker should meddle with Ben. Then she hath sworn, that she will still live his yard, and the tailor with his last, the fisher with his chaste?

pencil, and the painter with his nets ; but I am sent Rom. She hath, and in that sparing makes huge to find those persons, whose names are here writ, and waste;

can never find what names the writing person bath For beauty starv'd with her severity,

here writ. I must to the learned :-In good time. Cuts beauty off from all posterity.

Enter Benvolio and Romeo. She is too fair, too wise; wisely too fair,

Ben. Tut, man! one fire burns out another's burnTo merit bliss by making me despair :

ing, She hath forsworn to love ; and, in that vow,

One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish; Do I live dead, that live to tell it now.

Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning; Ben. Be ruld by me; forget to think of Irer. One desperate grief cures with another's languish :


Shut up


Take thou some new infection to thy eye,

La. Cap. This is the matter.--Nurse, give leaves And the rank poison of the old will die.

while, Rum. Your plantain leaf is excellent for that. We must talk in secret.-Nurse, come back agnin; Ben. For what, I pray thee?

I have remember'd me, thou shalt hear our counsel Rom.

For your broken shin. Thou know'st, my daughter's of a pretty age. Ben. Why, Romeo, art thou mad?

Nurse. 'Faith, I can tell her age unto a bour. Rom. Not mad, but bound more than a madman is:

La. Cap. She's not fourteen. in prison, kept without my food,


I'll lay fourteen of my teeth,
Whipp'd, and tormented, and-Goore'en, good fellow. And yet, to my teen be it spoken, I have but four,-

Serv. God gi'good even.--I pray, sir, can you read? She is not fourteen : How long is it now
Rom. Ay, inine owu fortune in my misery.

To Lammas-tide?
Sero. Perhaps you have learn'd it without book :

A fortnight, and odd days.
But I pray, can you read any thing you see?

Nurse. Even or odd, of all days in the year,
Rom. Ay, if I know the letters, and the language. Come Lammas eve at night, shall she be fourteen.
Sero. Ye say honestly; Rest you merry.

Susan and she, -God rest all christian souls !
Rom. Stay, fellow: I can read.

[Reads. || Were of an age-Well, Susan is with Gol;

She was too good for me : But, as I said,
Signior Martino, and his wife, and dangliers: On lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen;
County Anselme, and his benuteous sisters; The lady

That shall she, marry; I remember it well. widow of Vitruvio; Signior Placentia, and his lovely

'Tis since the earthquake now eleven yrars; nieces; Mercutio and his brother Valentine ; Mine

And she was wean'd, - I never shall forget it, uncle Capuler, his wife, and daughters; My fair niece

of all the days of the year, upon that day: Rosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio, and his cousin

For I had then laid wormword to my dug, Tybalt; Lucio, and the lively Heleno.

Sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall, A fair assembly; [Gires back the nolca] Whither | My lord and you were then at Mantua : should they corne?

Nay, I do bear a brain :-But, as I said, Serv. Up.

When it did taste the worm-wood on the nipple Rom. Whither?

of my dug, and felt it bitter, pretty fool! Serv. To supper; to our house.

To see it tetchy, and fall out with the dag. Rom. Whose house?

Shake, quoth the dove-house: 'twas no need, I tros,
Sero. My master's.

To bid me trudge.
Rom. Indeed, I should have asked you that before, And since that time it is eleven years :

Serv. Now, I'll tell you without asking: My master For then she could stand alone ; nay, by the rood,
is the great rich Capulet; and if you be not of the She could have run and waddled all about.
house of Montagues, I pray, come and crush a cup of For even the day before, she broke her brow:
wine. Rest you merry.

[Exit. And then my husband-God be with his soul! Ben. At this same ancient feast of Capulet's, 'A was a merry man ;-took up the child : Sups the fair Rosaline, whom thou so lov'st;

Yea, quoth he, dost thou fall upon thy face? With all the admired beauties of Verona :

'Thou will fall backward, when thou hast more writ; Go thither; and, with unattainted eye,

Wilt thou not, Jule ? and, by my holy

dam, Compare her face with some that I shall show, The pretty wretch left crying, and said-Ay: And I will make thee think thy swan a crow. To see now, how a jest shall come about!

Rom. When the devout religion of mine eye 1 warrant, an I should live a thousand years,

Maintains such falsehood, tben turu tears to fires ! I never should forger it; Wilt thou net, Jule ? quoth he:
And these,—who, often drown'd, could never die, And, pretty fool, it stinted, and said-Ay.
Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars!

La. Cap. Enough of this; I pray ther, hold thy
One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun

Ne'er saw her match, since first the world begun. Nurse. Yes, madam ; yet I cannot choose but laugh

Ben. Tut! you saw her fair, none else being by, To think it should leave crying, and say-dy:
Herself poisd with herself in either eye:

And yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow
But in those crystal scales, let there be weighid A bump as big as a young cockrel's stone;
Your lady's love against some other maid

A parlous knock; and it cried bitterly. That I will show you, shining at this feast,

Yea, quoth my husband, fallst upon thy face :
And she shall scant show well, that now shows best. Thou wilt fall backward, when thou com'st le age:

Rom. I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, Wilt thou not, Jule? it stinted, and said-Ay.
But to rejoice in splendour of mine own. [Exeunt. Jul. And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, say I.

Nurse. Peace, I have done: God mark thee to bis
SCENE III.- A Room in Capulet's House. Enter

grace! Lady Capulet and Nurse.

Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nursi. Le. Cap. Nurse, where's my daughter? call her forth

An I might live to see thee married once,

I have my wish. Nurse. Now, by my maiden-lead, -at twelve


La.Cap: Marry, that marry is the very theme old,

I came to talk of :-Tell me, daughter Juliet, I bade her come. What, lamb! what, lady bird !

How stands your disposition to be married ?
God forbid ! --where's this girl ?-what. Juliet !

Jul. It is an honour that I dream pot of.
Enter Juliet.

Nurse. An honour! were not I thine only me
Jul. How now, who calls?

I'd say, thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy test.
Your mother.

La.Cap. Well, think of marriage Dow: younger

Madam, I am bere. What is your will?

Here in Verona, ladies of esteem,

to me.

than you,

Are made already mothers : by my count,

Give me a case to put my visage in : I was your mother much upon these years

[Putting on a Mask That you are now a maid. Thus then, in brief ; A visor for a visor!-what care I, The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.

Wbat curious eye doth quote deformities? Nurse. A man, young lady! lady, such a man, Here are the beetle-brows shall blush for me. As all the world-Why, he's a man of wax.

Ben. Come, knock, and enter; and no sooner in, La. Cap. Verona's summer path not such a flower.

But every man betake him to his legs. Nurse. Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower. Rom. A torch for me: let wantons, light of heart,

La Cap. What say you; can you love the gentleman? | Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels; This night you shall belok him at our feast :

For I am proverh’d with a grandsire phinse, Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face,

I'll be a candle-holder, and look on, And find delight writ there with beauty's pen ;

The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done. Examine every married lineament,

Mer. Tut! dun's the inouse, the constable's owo And see how one another lends content;

word : And what obscur'd in this fair volume lies,

If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire Find written in the margin of his eyes.

Of this (save reverence) love, wherein thou stick'st This precious book of love, this unbound lover,

Up to the ears.-Come, we burn day-light, ho. To beautify him, only lacks a cover.

Rom. Nay, that's not so. The fish lives in the sea ; and 'uis much pride,


I mean, sir, in delay For fair without the fair within to hide.

We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day. That book in many's eyes doth share the glory,

Take our good meaning; for our judgement sits That in gold clasps locks in the golden story. Five times in that, ere once in our five wits. So shall you share all that he doth possess,

Rom. And we mean well, in going to this mask ; By having him, making yourself no less.

But 'tis no wit to go. Nurse. No less ? Nay, bigger; women grow by men. Mer.

Why, may one ask? La. Cap. Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love?

Rom. I dreamt a dream to-night. Jul. l'll look to like, if looking liking move:


And so did I. But no more deep will I endart mine eye,

Rom. Well, what was yours? Than your consent gives strength to make it fly.


That dreamers often lies Enter & Servant.

Rom. In bed, asleep, while they do dream things trie's Sero. Madam, the guests are come, supper served

Mer. O, then, I see, queen Mab hath been with yous up, you called, my young lady asked for, the nurse

She is the fairies' midwife; and she comes
cursed in the pantry, and every thing in extremity. In shape no bigger than an agate-stone
I must hence to wait ; I beseech you, follow straight. On the fore-finger of an alderman,
La. Cap. We follow thee.-Juliet, the county stays.

Drawn with a team of little atomies
Nurse. Go, girl, setki happy nights to happy days.

Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep: [Exeunt. Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners' legs ;

The cover of the wings of grasshoppers ; SCENE IV-A Street. Enter Romeo, Mercutio, | The traces, of the smallest spider's web; Benvolio, with five or six Maskers, Torch-bearers,

The collars, of the moonshine's watry beams; and others.

Her whip, of cricket's bore; the lash, of film: Rom. What, shall this speech be spoke for our es. Her waggoner, a small grey-coated gnat, ense?

Not half so big as a round little worm Or shall we on without apology ?

Prick d from the lazy finger of a maid : Ben. The dute is out of such prolixity.

Her chariot is an empty hazel-uut, We'll have no Cupid hoorl-wink'd with a scarf, Made by the joiner squirrel, or old grub, Bearing a Tartar's painted bow or lath,

Time out of mind the fairies' coach-makers. Searing the ladies like a crow-keeper ;

And in this state she gallops night by night Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke

Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love; After the prompter, for our entrance:

On courtiers' knees, that dreani on court 'sies straight : But, let them measure us by what they will,

O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees: We'll measnre them a measure, and be gone.

O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream, Rom. Give me a torch, I am not for this ambling; Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues, Being but heary, I will bear the light.

Because their beraths with sweet-meats tainted are. Mer. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance. Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,

Rom. Not I, beliere me: you have dancing shoes, And then dreams tie of smelling out a suit: With nimble soles ; I have a soul of lead,

And sometimes comes she with a tithe-pig's tail, Su stakes me to the ground, I cannot move.

Tickling a parson's nose as 'a lies asleep,
Mer. You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings, Then dreams he of another benefice:
And soar with them above a common bound. Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,

Rom. I am too sore enpierced with his shaft, And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
To soar with his light feathers; and so bound, or breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,
I ennnot bound a pitch above dull woe:

or healths five fathom deep; and then anon Under love's heavy burdeu do I sink.

Drums in liis ear ; ut which he starts, and wakes; Mer. And, to sink in it, should you burden love ; And, being thus frighter, swears a prayer or two, Ton great oppression for a tenger thing.

And sleeps again. This is that very Mah, Rom. Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, That plats the manes of horses in the night; Too rude, too boist'rous ; and it pricks like thorn. And bakes the elf-locks in foul sluttish hairs,

Mer. If love be rough with you, be rough with love; Which, once untangled, much misfortune boles. "Prick love for prieking, and you beat love down. This is the lag, when maids lie on their back,

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That presses them, and learns them first to bear, Some fye-and-twenty years; and then we mask'd.
Making them women of good carriage.

2 Cap. 'Tis more, 'tis more: his son is elder, sir; This, this is she

His son is thirty
Rom. Peace; peace, Mercutio, peace; 1 Cap. Will you tell me that?
Thou talk'st of nothing.

His son was but a ward two years ago.

True, I talk of dreams; Rom. Wbat lady's that, which doth enrich the band Which are the children of an idle brain,

of yonder knight? Begot of nothing but vain fantasy ;


I know not, sir.
Which is as thin of substance as the air;

Rom. O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
And more inconstant than the wind, who woos Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night
Even now the frozen bosom of the north,

Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear:
And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence,

Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! Turning his face to the dew-dropping south. So shows a snowy dove trdoping with crows,

Ben. This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves ; || As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows. Supper is done, and we shall come too late.

The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand, Rom. I fear, too early: for my mind misgives, And, touching hers, make happy my rude hand. Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars,

Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! Shall bitterly begin his fearful date

For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night. With this night's revels; and expire the terin

Tyb. This, by his voice, should be a Montague :of a despised life, clos'd in my breast,

Fetch me my rapier, boy:-What! dares the slave By some vile forfeit of untimely deach :

Come hither, cover'd with an antic face, But He, that hath the steerage of my course,

To fleer and scorn at our solemnity? Direct my sail !-On, lusty gentlemen.

Now, by the stock and honour of my kin, Ben. Strike, drum.

(Exeunt. | To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.

1 Cap. Why, how now, kinsman ? wherefore storm SCENE V.-A Hall in Capulet's House. Musicians waiting. Enter Servants,

Tyb. Unele, this is a Montague, our foe; 1 Serv. Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take A villain, that is hither come in spite, away? he shift a trencher! he scrape a trencher! To scorn at our solemnity this night.

2 Serv. When good manners shall lie all in one or 1 Cap. Young Romeo is't? 2wo men's hands, and they unwashed too, 'tis a fool Tyb.

'Tis he, that villain Romess thing.

1 Cap. Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone ; 1 Serv. Away with the joint-stools, remove the court. He bears him like a portly gentleman; eupboard, look to the plate :-good thou, save me a And, to say truth, Verona brags of him, piece of marchpane ; and, as thou lovest me, let the To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth: porter let in Susan Grindstone, and Nell.-Antony! I would not for the wealth of all this town, and Potpad!

Here in my house, do him disparagement : 2 Serv. Ay, boy; ready.

Therefore be patient, take no note of him, 1 Sero. You are looked for, and called for, asked | It is my will; the which if thou respect, for, and sought for, in the great chamber.

Show a fair presence, and put off these frowns, 2 Sero. We cannot be here and there too.-Cheerly, An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast. boys; be brisk awhile, and the longer liver take all. Tyb. It fits, when such a villain is a guest:

[They retire behind. I'll pot endure him. Enter Capulet, &c. with the Guests, and the Maskers.

1 Cap.

He shall be endur'd ;

What, goodman boy!-I say, he shall ;-Go to;
Cap. Gentlemen, welcome! ladies, that have their | Am I the master here, or you go to.

You'll not endore him!-God shall mend my soul
Unplagu'd with corns, will have a bout with you: You'll make a mutiny among my guests!
Ab ha, my mistresses ! which of you all

You will sit cock-a-hoop! You'll be the man!
Will now deny to dance ? she that makes dainty, she, Tyb. Why, unele, 'uis a shame.
I'll swear, hath corns ; Am I come near you now? i Cap.

Go to, go to,
You are welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day, You are a sauey boy :-Is't so, indeed -
That I have worp a visor; and could tell

This trick may chance to seath you ;-I know what.
A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear,

You must contrary me! marry, 'tis time-
Such as would please ;~'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone : Well said, my hearts: You are a princox; 90:-
You are welcome, gentlemen -Come, musicians, play. || Be quiet, or-More light, more light, for shame!-
A hall! a ball! Give rom, and foot it, girls I'll make you quiet; What !--Cheerly, my hearts.

[Music plays, and they dance. Tyb. Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting,
More light, ye knaves; and turn the tables up, Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.'
And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall,
Ah, sirrah, this unlook’d-for sport comes well. Now seeming sweet, convert to bitter gall. [Erit.
Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet,

Rom. If I profane with my unworthy land
For you and I are past our dancing days :

[To Juliet. How long is't now, since last yourself and I

This boly shrine, the gentle fine is this, Were in a mask?

My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand, 2 Cap. By'r lady, thirty years.

To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss nurse. What, man! 'tis not so much, 'cis not so Jul. Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand to Jul.

much, What is your will? tial of Lucentio,

Which mannerly devotion shows in this; quickly as it will,

For saints have hands that pilgrims' hauds do touch,





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