Begot of nothing, but vain phantasy ; Ben. This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourfelves; Supper is done, and we shall come too late. Rom. I fear, too early; for my mind mifgives, With this night's revels; and expire the term [They march about the Stage, and Exeunt. SCENE changes to a Hall in Capulet's House. 1 Serv. Enter Servants, with Napkins. WH trencher! Here's Potpan, that he helps not to take away; he shift a trencher! he fcrape a 2 Serv. When good manners fhall lie all in one or two men's hands, and they unwash'd too, 'tis a foul thing. 1 Serv. Away with the joint-stools, remove the courtcup-board, look to the plate: good thou, fave me a piece of march-pane; and, as thou loveft me, let the porter let in Sufan Grindstone, and Nell. Antony, and Potpan 2 Serv. Ay, boy, ready. 1 Serv. You are look'd for, call'd for, ask'd for, and fought 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. [Exeunt. VOL. VIIL B Enter ! Enter all the Guests and Ladies, with the mafkers. 1 Cap. Welcome, gentlemen. Ladies, that have your Unplagu'd with corns, we'll have a bout with you. Will now deny to dance? She that makes dainty, Such as would please: 'tis gone; 'tis gone; 'tis gone! [Mufick 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, fit; nay, fit, good coufin Capulet, For you and I are paft our dancing days: How long is't now fince last yourself and I Were in a mask? 2 Cap. By'r lady, thirty years. I Cap. What, man! 'tis not fo much, 'tis not so much; "Tis fince the nuptial of Lucentio, Come Pentecoft as quickly as it will, Some five and twenty years, and then we mask'd. 2 Cap. 'Tis more, 'tis more; his fon is elder, Sir: His fon-is thirty. 1 Cap. Will you tell me that? His fon 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, fhe doth teach the torches to burn bright; Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night, Like a rich jewel in an Athop's ear: Lid my heart love till now? forfwear it, fight; 1yb. This by his voice fhould be a Montague. Cap. Why, how now, kinfman, wherefore storm you fo? To fcorn at our folemnity this night. Tyb. That villain Romeo, Cap. Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone; Tyb. It fits, when fuch a villain is a guest. Cap. He fhall be endur'd. my foul, What, goodman boy-I fay, he fhall. Go to Cap. Go to, go to, You are a fawcy boy. is't fo, indeed? This trick may chance to feathe you; I know what. You must contrary me! Well faid, my hearts: Be quiet, or (more light, Marry, 'tis time. -You are a princox, go:more light, for fhame) I'll make you quiet-What? cheerly, my hearts. B 2 Tyb. Tyb. Patience perforce, with wilful choler meeting, Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting. I will withdraw; but this intrufion fhall, Now feeming sweet, convert to bitter gall. Rom. If I profane with my unworthy hand (12) [To Juliet. This holy fhrine, 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 fhews in this ; For faints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, [Kiffing her. Jul. Then have my lips the fin that late they took. Rom. Sin from my lips! O trefpass, sweetly urg'd-! Give me my fin again. Jul. You kifs by th' book. Nurfe. Madam, your mother craves a word with you. Rom. What is her mother? Nurfe. Marry, bachelor, (12) If I profane with my unworthy band This boly forine, the gentle fin is this, [To her Nurse, My lips, two blufbing pilgrims, &c.] All profanations are fuppos'd to be expiated either by fome meritorious action, or by fome penance undergone and punishment fubmitted to. So, Romeo would here fay, If I have been profane in the rude touch of my hand, my lips ftand ready, as two blushing pilgrims, to take off that offence, to atone for it, by a sweet penance. Our Poet therefore must have wrote -be gentle fine is this. So, in Two Gentlemen of Verona. Mr. Warburton. Her Her mother is the lady of the house, And a good lady, and a wife and virtuous. Rom. Is the a Capulet? O dear account! my life is my foe's debt. I'll to my reft. [Fx unt. Jul. Come hither, nurfe. What is yon gentleman ? Jul. What's he, that now is going out of door? Jul. What's he, that follows here, that would not Jul. Go, ak his name.-If he be married, [dance? Jul. My only love fprung from my only hate! Of one I danc'd withal. Nurfe: Anon, anon [One calls within, Juliet. Come, let's away, the strangers all are gone. Enter CHORUS. [Exeunt. Now old Defire doth on his death-bed lie, Now |