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Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,
Of healths five fathom deep; and then anon
Drums in his ear; at which he starts, and wakes;
And, being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two,
And sleeps again. This is that very Mab,
That plats the manes of horses in the night;
And bakes the elf-locks in foul sluttish hairs,
Which, once untangled, much misfortune bodes.
This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,
That presses them, and learns them first to bear,
Making them women of good carriage.
This, this is she--

Rom. Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace;
Thou talk'st of nothing.

Mer. True, I talk of dreams;
Which are the children of an idle brain,
Begot of nothing but vain fantasy;
Which is as thin of substance as the air;
And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes
Even now the frozen bosom of the north,
And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence,
Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.

Ben. This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves; Supper is done, and we shall come too late.

Rom. I fear, too early: for my mind misgives,
Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars,
Shall bitterly begin his fearful date
With this night's revels; and expire the term
Of a despised life, clos’d in my breast,
By some vile forfeit of untimely death :
But He, that hath the steerage of my course,
Direct my sail !-On, lusty gentlemen.

Ben. Strike, druin.


SCENE V.-A hall in Capulet's house.

Musicians waiting. Enter Servants. i Serv. Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away? he shift a trencher! he scrape a trencher !

2 Serv. When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's hands, and they unwashed too, 'tis a foul thing.

i Sero. Away with the joint-stools, remove the courtcupboard, look to the plate :-good thou, save me a piece of marchpane; and, as thou lovest me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone, and Nell.- Antony ! and Potpan!

2 Sero. Ay, boy; ready.

I Sero. You are looked for, and called for, asked for, and sought for, in the great chamber.

2 Serv. We cannot be here and there too.—Cheerly, boys; be brisk a while, and the longer liver take all.

[They retire behind.

Enter CAPULET, &c. with the Guests and the Maskers. Cap. Gentlemen, welcome! ladies, that have their

toes Unplagu'd with corns, will have a bout with you: Ab ha, my mistresses! which of you all Will now deny to dance? she, that makes dainty, she, I'll swear, hath corns; Am I come near you now? You are welcome, gentlemen! I have sen the day, That I have worn a visor ; and could tell

A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear,
Such as would please ;-'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone:
You are welcome, gentlemen !-- Come, musicians, play.
A hall! a hall! give room, and foot it, girls.

[Music plays, and they dance.
More light, ye knaves; and turn the tables up,
And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot.-
Ah, sirrah, this unlook’d-for sport comes well.
Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet;
For you and I are past our dancing days:
How long is't now, since last yourself and I
Were in a mask ?

2 Cap. By’r lady, thirty years.

i Cap. What, man ! 'tis not so much, 'tis not so much : 'Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio, Come pentecost as quickly as it will, Some five and twenty years; and then we mask'd.

2 Cap. 'Tis more, 'tis more: his son is elder, sir; His son is thirty.

i Cap. Will you tell me that? His son was but a ward two years ago.

Rom. What lady's that, which doth enrich the hand Of yonder knight?

Serv. I know not, sir.

Rom. O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! Her beauty bangs upon the cheek of night Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear: Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows. The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand, And, touching hers, inake happy my rude hand.

Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight!
For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.

Tyb. This, by his voice, should be a Montague:-
Fetch me my rapier, boy :-What! dares the slave
Come hither, cover'd with an antick face,
To fleer and scorn at our solemnity ?
Now, by the stock and honour of my kin,
To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.
i Cap. Why, how now, kinsman? wherefore storm

you so?
Tyb. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe;
A villain, that is hither come in spite,
To scorn at our solemnity this night.

i Cap. Young Romeo is't?
Tyb. 'Tis he, that villain Romeo.

i Cap. Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone,
He bears him like a portly gentleman;
And, to say truth, Verona brags of him,
To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth:
I would not for the wealth of all this town
Here in my house do him disparagement:
Therefore be patient, take no note of him,
It is my will; the which if thou respect,
Show a fair presence, and put off these frowns,
An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.

Tyb. It fits, when such a villain is a guest;
I'll not endure him.

i Cap. He shall be endur'd:
What, goodman boy !-I say, he shall ;-Go to ;-
Am I the master here, or you? go to.
You'll not endure him!—God shall mend my soul
You'll make a mutiny among my guests!

You will set cock-a-boop! you'll be the man !

Tyb. Why, uncle, 'tis a shame.

i Cap. Go to, go to,
You are a saucy boy :-Is't so, indeed ?-
This trick may chance to scath you ;-I know what.
You must contrary me! marry, 'tis time-
Well said, my hearts : You are a princox; go :-
Be quiet, or—More light, more light, for shame!-
I'll make you quiet; What !-Cheerly, my hearts.

Tyb. Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting,
Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.
I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall,
Now seeming sweet, convert to bitter gall. [Exit.
Rom. If I profane with my unworthy hand

This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this,-
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand

To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
Jul. Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, .

Which mannerly devotion shows in this;
For saints have hands, that pilgrims' hands do touch,

And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.
Rom. Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?
Jul. Ay, pilgriin, lips, that they must use in prayer.

Rom. O then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;
They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.
Jul. Saints do not move, though grant for prayers'

sake. Rom. Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take. Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purg’d.

[Kissing her. Jul. Then bave my lips the sin, that they bave took.

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