And, being thus frighted, fwears a prayer or two,
And fleeps again. This is that very Mab,
That plats the manes of horses in the night;
And bakes the elf-locks in foul fluttish hairs,
Which, once entangled, 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 fhe

Rom.

Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace;

Thou talk'ft 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 fubftance as the air;
And more inconftant than the wind, who wooes
Even now the frozen bofom of the north,
And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence,
Turning his face to the dew-dropping fouth.

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 confequence, 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 fome vile forfeit of untimely death:

But He, that hath the fteerage of my course,
Direct my fail!-On, lufty gentlemen.
Ben. Strike, drum.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V.

A Hall in Capulet's House.

Muficians 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 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-ftools, 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 Sufan 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 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. [They retire behind.

Enter CAPULET, &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 miftreffes! which of you all

Will now deny to dance? she that makes dainty, she,
I'll fwear, hath corns; Am I come near you now?
You are welcome, gentlemen! I have feen the day,
That I have worn a vifor; 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, muficians, play. A hall! a hall! give room, and foot it, girls.

[Mufick plays, and they dance.

More light, ye knaves; and turn the tables up,

And

And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot.-
Ah, firrah, this unlook'd-for sport comes well.
Nay, fit, nay, fit, good coufin Capulet;
For you and I are past our dancing days:
How long is't now, fince last yourself and I
Were in a mask?

2. Cap.

By'r lady, thirty years.

1. Cap. What, man! 'tis not so much, 'tis not fo 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, fir;
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, fir.

Rom. O, fhe 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 fhows a fnowy 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? forfwear it, fight!
For I ne'er faw true beauty till this night.

Tyb. This, by his voice, should be a Montague :-
Fetch me my rapier, boy:-What! dares the flaye
Come hither, cover'd with an antick face,
To fleer and fcorn at our folemnity?
Now, by the stock and honour of my kin,
To ftrike him dead I hold it not a fin.

1.Cap. Why, how now, kinfman? wherefore ftorm you fo? Tyb. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe; A villain, that is hither come in fpite,

To scorn at our folemnity this night. 1. 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 fay 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 prefence, and put off these frowns,
An ill-befeeming femblance 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 fay, he fhall;-Go to ;-
Am I the master here, or you? go to.

You'll not endure him!-God fhall mend my foul-
You'll make a mutiny among my guests!

You will fet cock-a-hoop! you'll be the man!
Tyb. Why, uncle, 'tis a fhame.

J. Cap.

Go to, go to,
You are a faucy boy:-Is't fo, indeed?-

This trick may chance to fcath you ;-I know what.
You must contráry me! marry, 'tis time-
Well faid, my hearts :-You are a princox; go:
Be quiet, or-More light, more light, for fhame !—
I'll make you quiet; What!-Cheerly, my hearts.
Tyb. Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting,
Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.