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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 Ser. Ay, boy; ready.

1 Ser. You are looked for, and called for, asked for, and sought for, in the great chamber.

2 Ser. We cannot be here and there too. Cheerly, boys; be brisk awhile, and the longer liver take all.

[they retire behind.

Enter CAPULET, &c. with the Guests and the

Cap. Gentlemen, welcome! ladies, that have

their toes
Unplagued 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,


1 A sideboard, on which the plate was placed. ? A kind of sweet bread or biscuit.

A hall! a hall!1 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. 1. 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. 1 Сар.


tell me that? His son was but a ward two years ago. Ro. What lady's that, which doth enrich the

Of yonder knight?

Ser. I know not, sir.
Ro. O, she doth teach the torches to burn

It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear :
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!

Ti.e. give place, make room.

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.

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

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

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

1 Cap. Young Romeo is 't ?

'Tis he, that villain Romeo. 1 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.

Ty. It fits, when such a villain is a guest : I'U not endure him,


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