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Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love:
Rom. Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace;
Which are the children of an idle brain,
Which is as thin of substance as the air;
A Hall in Capulet's House.
Musicians waiting. Enter Servants.
1 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 unwash'd too, 'tis a foul thing.
1 Serv. Away with the joint-stools, remove the court-cupboard, 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 Serv. Ay, boy; ready. 1 Serv. You are look'd for, and call'd for, ask'd 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 CAPU LET, &c. with the Guests, and the Maskers. 1 Cap. Gentlemen, welcome! ladies, that have
their toes Unplagu'd with corns, will have a bout with you:— Ah 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 seen 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.
[Musick plays, and they dance.
More light, ye knaves; and turn the tables up,
For you and I are past our dancing days:
2 Cap. By’r lady, thirty years.
1 Cap. What, man? 'tis not so much ; 'tis not so
'Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio,
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 hangs 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, make 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?
1 Cap. Why, how now, kinsman? wherefore storm
Tyl. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe;
1 Cap. Young Romeo is't 2
Tyb. 'Tis he, that villain Romeo.
1 Cap. Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone,
Tyb. It fits, when such a villain is a guest;
1 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-hoop! you'll be the man!
Tyb. Why, uncle, ’tis a shame.
1 Cap. Go to, go to,