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Her waggoner, a small grey-coated gnat,
Not half so big as a round little worm
Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid:
Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut,
Made by the joiner squirrel, or old grub,
Time out of mind the fairies' coach-makers.
And in this state she gallops night by night

Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love: On courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight:

O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees:
O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream;
Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,
Because their breaths with sweet-meats tainted are.
Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,
And then dreams he of smelling out a suit:7
And sometimes comes she with a tithe-pig's tail,
Tickling a parson's nose as 'a lies asleep,
Then dreams he of another benefice:
Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,
And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,
Of healths five fathom deep; and then anon
Drums in his ear; at which 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 untangled, much misfortune bodes.
This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,

8

And then dreams he of smelling out a suit: &c.] In our author's time, a court-solicitation was called, simply, a suit, and a process, a suit at law, to distinguish it from the other.

- Spanish blades,] A sword is called a toledo, from the excellence of the Toletan steel.

And bakes the elf-locks, &c.] This was a common superstition; and seems to have had its rise from the horrid disease called the Plica Polonica.

That presses them, and learns them first to bear, Making them women of good carriage.

This, this is she

Rom.

Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace;

Thou talk'st 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 substance as the air;
And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes
Even now the frozen bosom of the north,
And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence,
Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.

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 consequence, 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 some vile forfeit of untimely death:
But He, that hath the steerage of my course,
Direct my sail!-On, lusty gentlemen.
Ben. Strike, drum.

SCENE V.

A Hall in Capulet's House.

Musicians waiting. Enter Servants.

[Exeunt.

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 unwashed 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 looked for, and called for, asked 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 CAPULET, &c. with the Guests, and the

Maskers.

Cap. Gentlemen, welcome! ladies, that have

their toes

you:

Unplagu'd with corns, will have a bout with
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.

-court-cupboard,] The court-cupboard perhaps served the purpose of what we call at present the side-board. The use which now is made of those cupboards is to display at publick festivals the flaggons, cans, cups, beakers, and other antique silver vessels of the company, some of which (with the names of the donors inscribed on them) are remarkably large.

2 — save me a piece of marchpane;] Marchpanes were composed of filberts, almonds, pistachoes, pine-kernels, and sugar of roses, with a small proportion of flour.

A hall! a hall give room, and foot it, girls.
[Musick 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.

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.

4

• A hall! a hall!] An exclamation signifying make room. turn the tables up,] Before this phrase is generally intelligible, it should be observed that ancient tables were flat leaves, joined by hinges, and placed on tressels. When they were to be removed, they were therefore turned up.

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?
Now, by the stock and honour of my kin,
To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.

1 Cap. Why, how now kinsman? wherefore storm you so?

Tyb. 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?

Tyb.
'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.

Tyb. It fits, when such a villain is a guest; I'll not endure him.

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

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.

my

Go to, go to,

Cap.
You are a saucy boy:-Is't so, indeed?—

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