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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 intangled, much Misfortunes bodes. This is the Hag, when Maids lye on their Backs, That presses them, and learns them first to bear, Making them Women of good Carriage : This is the
Rom. Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace ;
Mer. True, I talk of Dreams;
Ben, This Wind you talk of, blows us from our selves;
Ben. Strike, Drum.
They march about the Stage, and Servants come forth with
i Ser. Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away? He shift a Trencher ! 'He scrape a Trencher!
2 Ser. When good Manners shall ye in one or two Mens Hands, and they unwash'd too, 'tis a foul thing.
1 Ser. Away with the Joint-stools remove the Court-cupboard, look to the Plate : Good thou, save me a piece of March-pane; and as thou lovest me, let the Porter let in Vol. V. с
Susan Grindstone, and Nell, Anthony, and Potpan."
2 Ser. Ay, Boy, ready.
i Ser. You are look'd for, calld for, ask'd for, and fought for, in the great Chamber.
2 Ser. We cannot be here and there too; chearly Boys; Be brisk a while, and the longer liver take all. [Exeunt.
Enter all the Guests and Ladies to the Maskers. 1 Cap. Welcome, Gentlemen ; Ladies that have their Toes Unplagu'd with Corns, will walk about with you. Ah me, 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 ye now? 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 all welcome, Gentlemen; come, Musicians, play.
[Mufick plays, and they Dance, A Hall, Hall; give room, and foot it, Girls: 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 Cousin Capulet, For you and I, are past our dancing daies: How long is't now since last your self and I Were in a Mask ?
2 Cap. By'r Lady, thirty Years.
I Cap. What, Man! 'cis not so much, 'tis not so much ; "Tis firice the Nuptial of Lucentio, Come Pentecost, as quickly as it will, Some five and cwenty 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 is that which doth enrich the Hand Of yonder Knight?
Ser. I know not, Sir.
Rom. O me doth teach the Torches to burn bright; Her Beauty hangs upon the cheek of Night,
Like a rich Jewel in an Æthiop's Ear:
Tib. This by his Voice should be a Mountague.
Cap. Why, how now, Kinsman,
Tib. Uncle, this is a Mountague, our Foe:
Cap. Young Romeo, is it?
Tib. It fits, when such a Villain is a Guest. I'll not endure him.
Cap. He shall be indur’d.
Tib. Why, Uncle, 'tis a shame.
You are a saucy Boy-'tis so indeed
-marry 'tis time.
Tib. Patience perforce with wilful Choler meeting,
Rom. If I prophane with my unworthiest Hand, [TO Juliet.
Jul. Good Pilgrim,
Rom. Have not Saints Lips, and holy Palmers too?
Rom. O then, dear Saint, let Lips do what Hands do,
Jul. Saints do not move, Though grant for Prayers fake.
Rom. Then move not while my Prayers effe do take : Thus from my Lips, by thine my fin is purg'd. [Kising her. Jul. Then have my Lips the sin that they have
took. Rom. Sin from my Lips! O trespass sweetly urg'd : Give me my fin again.
Ful. You kiss by th' Book.
Nur. Marry, Batchelor,
Rom. Is she a Capulet?
Ben. Away, be gone, the sport is at the best.
[Excunt. Jul. Come hither, Nurse. What is yond' Gentleman?
Nur. The Son and Heir of old Tyberio.
Jul. Go ask his Name. If he be Married,
Nur. His Name is Romeo, and a Mountague,
Jul. My only Love sprung from my only Hate!
Nur. What's this? what's this?
Jul. A Rhime I learni'd even now of one I danc'd withal.
[One calls within, Juliet. Nur. Anon, anon: Come, let's away, the Strangers all are gone, [Exeunt.
A CT II. SCENE I.
W old Desire doth in his Death-bed lye,
gapes to be his Heir :