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court-cupboard; look to the plate. Good thou, save me a piece of marchpane; 2 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

Maskers.

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, play.

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 Cap.

Will you tell me that? His son was but a ward two years ago.

Ro. What lady's that, which doth enrich the hand

Of yonder knight?

Ser. I know not, sir.

Ro. O, she doth teach the torches to burn

bright!

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!

i. 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. Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For 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?

Ty.

'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'll not endure him.

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