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ROMEO AND JULIET.
ABRAM, Servant to Montaguo.
Boy, Page to Paris.
PETER, an Officer.
| LADY MONTAGUE, Wife to Montague, BESVOLJO, Nephew to Montague, and Friend to LADY CAPULET, Wife to Capulet. Romeo.
JULIET, Daughter to Capulet.
Nurse to Juliet.
Citizens of Verona; several Men and Winen, iela BALTHAZAR, Servant to Romeo.
tions to both Houses; Muskers, Guaras, Watch SAMPSON, ;}Servants to Capulet.
men, and Attendants. GREGORY,
SCENE, during the greater Part of the Play, in Verona; once, in the fifth Act, at Mantua.
Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life;
The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,
And the continuance of their parents' rage,
SCENE I-A Public Place.
Gre. The heads of the maids?
Sam. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenand Bucklers.
Gre. They must take it in sense, that feel it. San. Gregory, omy word, we'll not carry coals. Sam. Me they shall feel, while I am able to Gre. No, for then we should be colliers.
stand: and, 'tis known, I am a pretty piece of flesh. Sam. I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw. Gre. 'Tis well, thou art not fish; if thou badst,
Gre. Ay, while you live, draw your neck out of thou hadst been poor John? Draw thy tool; here the collar.
comes two of the house of the Montagues. Sam. I strike quickly, being moved. Gre. But thou art not quickly moved to strike.
Enter ABRAM and BALTHAZAR. Sam. A dog of the house of Montague moves me. Sam. My naked weapon is out; quarrel, I will
Gre. To move, is-to stir; and to be valiant, is back thee. to stand to it: therefore, if thou art moved thou Gre. How? turn thy back, and run? runn'st away.
Sam. Fear me not. Sam. A dog of that house shall move me to
Gre. No, marry: I fear thee! stand: I will take the wall of any man or maid of Sam. Let us take the law of our sides; let them Montague's.
begin. Gre. That shows thee a weak slavo; for the Gre. I will frown as i pass by; and let them weakest goes to the wall.
take it as they list. Sam. True; and therefore women, being the Sam. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the wall:-there- them; which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it. bore I will push Montague's men from the wall, Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? and thrust his maids to the wall.
Sam. I do bite my thumb, sir. Gre. The quarrel is between our masters, and Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? us their ineu.
Sam. Is the law on our side, if I say-ay? Sam. 'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: Gre. No. when I have fought with the men, I will be cruel Sam. No, sir; I do not bite my thumb at you with the maids; I will cut off their heads.
sir: but I bite my thumb, sir. • A pbrasa formerly in use, to signify the bearing injuries.
· Poor Jobu is bake, dried and salted.
Gre. D. you quarrel, sir?
La. Mon. 0, where is Romeo !-saw you bim to. Abr. Qarrel, sir? no, sir.
day? Sam. If you do, sir, I am for you; I serve as Right glad I am, he was not at this fray. duod a man as you.
Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun Abr. No better.
Peer'd6 forth the golden window of the east, Sam. Well, sir.
A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad; Enter BENVOLIO, at a distance.
Where, -underneath the grove of sycamore,
That westward rooteth from the city's side,Gre. Say-better; here comes one of my master's kinsmen.
So early walking did I see your son:
Towards him I made; but he was 'ware of me Sum. Yes, better, sir.
And stole into the covert of the wood: Abr. You lie.
I, measuring his affections by my own, Sam. Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remem
That most are busied when they are most alone,her thy swashing blow.
[They fight. Pursued my humor, not pursuing his Ben. Part, fools; put up your swords, you know And gladly shunn'd who gladly iled from me. not what you do. [Beats down their Swords.
Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen, Enter TYBALT.
With tears augmenting the fresh mornings des,
Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighe Tyb. What, art thou drawn among these heart
But all so soon as the all-cheering sun less hinds?
Should in the furthest east begin
to draw Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death.
The shady curtains from Aurora's bed, Ben. I do but keep the peace: put up thy sword, Away from light steals home my heavy son, Or manage it to part these men with me.
And private in his chamber pens himself; Tyb. What, drawn, and talk of peace? I hate Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out, the word,
And makes himself an artificial night: As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee;
Black and portentous must this humor prove, Have at thee, coward.
[They fight. Unless good counsel may the cause remore. Enter several Partizans of both Houses, who join
Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause ! the Fray; then enter Citizens with Clubs.
Mon. I neither know it, nor can learn of him.
Ben. Have you importuned him by any means ! Cit. Clubs,3 bills, and partizans! strike! beat
Mon. Both by myself and many other friends them down! Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagues! Is to himself, I will not say, how true
But he, his own affections' counsellor, Enter CAPULET in his Gown, and Lady CAPULET.
But to himself so secret and so close, Cap. What noise is this?-Give me my long As is the bud bit with an envious worm,
So far from sounding and discovery, sword, ho! La. Cap. A crutch, a crutch!-Why call you for Or dedicate his beauty to the sun.
Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, a sword?
Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow Cap. My sword, I say!-Old Montague is come, And flourishes his blade in spite of me.
We would as willingly give cure, as know.
Enter ROMEO, at a distance. Enter MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE.
Ben. See, where he comes: So please you, step Mon. Thou villain, Capulet,-Hold me not, let
aside; me go!
I'll know his grievance, or be much denied. La. Mon. Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe. Mon. I would, thou wert so happy by thy stay.
To hear true shrift.--Come, madam, let's away. Enter Prince, with Attendants.
[Exeunt MONTAGCE and Lady. Prin. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, Ben. Good-morrow, cousin. Profaners of this neighbor-stained steel,
Is the day so young Will they not hear?—what, ho! you men, you Ben. But new struck nine. beasts,
Ah me! sad hours seem long. That quen:h the fire of your pernicious rage Was that my father that went hence so fast! With purple fountains issuing from your veins, Ben. It was:-What sadness lengthens Ronca's On pain of torture, from those bloody hands
hours? Throw your mistemper'd' weapons to the ground Rom. Not having that, which having, mal. s And hear the sentence of your moved prince.
them short Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word,
Ben. In love! By thee, old Capulet and Montague,
Rom. Out Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets;
Ben. Of love? And made Verona's ancient citizens
Rom. Out of her favor, where I am in love. Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments,
Ben. Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, To wield old partizans, in hands as old,
Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! Canker'd with peace, to part your cankerd hate. Rom. Alas, that iove, whose view is muffled still
. If ever you disturb our streets again,
Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will! Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace. Where shall we dine!-0 me!-What fray 2. For this time, all the rest depart away:
here! You, Capulet, shall go along with me;
Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all. And, Montague, come you this afternoon,
Here's much to do with hate, but more with love :To know our further pleasure in this case,
Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate! [o old Free-town, our common judgment-place. O any thing, of nothing first create! Once more, on pain of death, all men depart. O heavy lightness! serious vanity!
(Exeunt Prince and Attendants; CAPULET, Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms!
LADY CAPULET, TYBALT, Citizens, und Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick bealth !
Still waking sleep, that is not what it is!
No, coz, I rather weep.
At thy good heart's oppression The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepared;
Rom. Why, such is love's transgression.Which, as he breath'd defiance to my ears, Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast; He swung about his head, and cut the winds, Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest Who, nothing hurt withal, hiss'd him in scorn: With more of thine:
this love, that thou nast While we were interchanging thrust and blows,
shown, Came more and more, and fought on part and part, Doth add more grief to too much of mine own. Till the prince came, who parted either part. Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of sighs;
Clubs was the usual exclamation at an affray in the Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; streets, as we d w call Watch!
being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' fears • Angry. A kind of pike.
What is it else? a madness most discreet,
Inherits at my house; hear all, all see, A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.
And like her most, whose merit most shall be: Farewell, my coz.
(Gong. Such, amongst view of many, mine, being one, Ben. Soft, I will go along;
May stand in number, though in reckoning none. An if you leave me so, you do me wrong.
Coine, go with me:-Go, sirrah, trudge about Rom. Tut. I have lost myself; I am not here; Through fair Verona ; find those persons out, This is not Romeo, he's some other where. Whose names are written there, (Gives a Paper.) Ben. Tell me in sadness who she is you love.
and to them say, Rom. What, shall I groan, and tell thee? My house and welcome on their pleasure stay. Ben. Groan ? why no;
(Exeunt CAPLLET and PARIS. But sadly tell me, who.
Serv. Find them out, whose names are written Rom. Bid a sick man in sadness make his will :- here? It is written--that the shoemaker should Ah, word ill-urged to one that is so ill !
meddle with his yard, and the tailor with his last In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.
the fisher with his pencil, and the painter with his Ben. I aim'd so near, when I suppos'd you lov'd. nets; but I am sent to find those persons, whose Rom. A right good marksman!And she's fair names are here writ, and can vever find what I love.
names the writing person hath here writ. I must Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. to the learned :-In good tiine. Rom. Well, in that hit, you miss: she'll not be hit
Enter BENVOLIO and ROMEO. With Cupid's arrow, she hath Dian's wit;
Ben. Tut, man! one fire burns out another's And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd,
burning, From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd. One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish; She will not stay the siege of loving terms,
Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning: Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes,
One desperate grief cure with another's lanNor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold :
guish: 0, she is rich in beauty; only poor,
Take thou some new infection to thy eye, That, when she dies, with beauty dies her store. And the rank poison of the old will die. Ben. Then she hath sworn, that she will still live Rom. Your plantain leaf is excellent for that. chaste?
Ben. For what, I pray thee? Rom. She hath, and in that sparing makes huge Rom.
For your broken shin. waste;
Ben. Why, Romeo, art thou mad? For beauty, starv'd with her severity,
Rom. Not mad, but bound more than a madman Cuts beauty off from all posterity. She is too fair, too wise; wisely too fair,
Shut up in prison, kept without my food, To merit bliss by making me despair :
Whipp'd and tormented, and-Good-e'en, good She hath forsworn to love; and in that vow,
fellow. Do I live dead, that live to tell it now.
Serv. God gi? good-e'en.--I pray, sir, can you Brn. Be ruled by me, forget to think of he..
rend! Rom. O, teach me how I should forget to think. Rom. Ay, mine own fortune in my misery. Ben. By giving liberty unto thine eyes;
Serv. Perhaps you have learn'd it without book: Examine other beauties.
But I pray, can you read any thing you see? Rom. 'Tis the way
Rom. Ay, if I know the letters, and the lanTo call hers, exquisite, in question more:
guage. These bappy masks, that kiss fair ladies' brows, Serv. Ye say honestly: Rest you merry! Being black, put us in mind they hide the fair; Rom. Stay, fellow; I can read.
[Reads. He, that is strucken blind, cannot forget
Signior Martino, and his wife and daughlers; The precious treasure of his eyesight lost:
County Anselme, and his beauteous sisters; The Show me a mistress that is passing fair,
lady widow of Vitruvio; Signior Placentio,and his What doth her beauty serve, but as a note
lovely nieces ; Mercutio, and his brother Valentine; Where I may read, who pass'd that passing fair ? Mine uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters ; My Farewell; thou canst not teach me to forget. fair niece Rosaline, Livia; Signior Valentio, anl Ben. I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt. his cousin Tybalt; Lucio, and the lively Helena.
(Exeunt. A fair assembly; (Gires back the Note.) Whither
should they come?
Serv. To supper; to our house. Cap. And Montague is bound as well as I,
Rom. Whose house? In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think,
Serv. My master's. For men so old as we to keep the peace.
Rom. Indeed, I should have asked you that bePar. Of honorable reckoningi are you both;
fore. And pity 'tis, you liv'd at odds so long.
Serv. Now I'll tell you without asking: My But now, my lord, what say you to my suit?
master is the great rich Capulet; and if you be not Cap. But saying o'er what I have said before:
of the house of Montagues, I pray,come and crush My child is yet a stranger in the world,
a cup of wine.9 Rest you merry.
[E.xit. She hath not seen the change of fourteen years; Ben. At this same ancient feast of Capulet's Let two more summers wither in their
Sups the fair Rosaline, whom thou so lov'st; Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride.
With all the admired beauties of Verona. Par. Younger than she are happy mothers made. Go thither; and, with unattainted eye, Cap. And too soon marr'd are those so early Compare her face with some that I shall show, made.
And I will make thee think thy swan a crow. The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she, Rom. When the devout religion of mine eye She is the hopeful lady of my earth:
Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,
fires ! My will to her consent is but a part;
And these, who, often drown'd, could never die,An she agree, within her scope of choice
Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars! Lies my consent and fair according voice.
One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun This night I hold an old accustom'd feast,
Ne'er saw her match, since first the world begun. Whereto I have invited many a guest,
Ben. Tut! you saw her fair, none else being by Such as I love; and you, among the store,
Herself pois'd' with herself in either eye: One more, most welcome, makes my number But in those crystal scales, let there be weigh'd
more. At my poor house, look to behold this night
Your lady's love against some other maid
That I will show you, shining at this feast, Farth-treading stars, that make dark heaven light: And she shall scant-show well, that now shows best. Sach comfort, as do lusty young men feel
Rom. I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, When well-apparell'd April on the heel
But to rejoice in splendor of mine own. (Exeunt. Of limring winter treads, even such delight Among fresh female birds shall you this night
• To inherit, in the language of Shakspeare, is to possess.
: We still say, in cant language, crack a bottle. * Account, estimation.
• Scarcely, hardly.
SCENE III.-A Room in Capulet's House.
Here, in Verona, ladies of esteem,
Are made already mothers : by my count,
I was your mother much upon these years La. Cap. Nurse, where's my daughter ? call her that you are now a maid. Thus then, in brief:forth to me.
The valiant Paris seeks you for his love. Nurse. Now, by my maidenhead, at twelve year Nurse. A man, young lady! lady, such a man, old,
As all the world-Why, he's a man of wars I bade her come.-What, lamb! what, lady-bird! La. Cap. Verona's summer hath not such a God forbid !--where's this girl ?-what, Juliet!
flower. Enter JULIET.
Nurse. Nay, he's a flower, in faith, a very flower.
La. Cap. What say you? can you love the Jul. How now, who calls ?
gentleman ? Nurse. Your mother.
This night you shall behold him at our feast: Jul.
Madam, I am here, Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face, What is your will?
And find delight writ there with beauty's pen, La. Cap. This is the matter:-Nurse, give leave Examine every married lineament,
a while, We must talk in secret.-Nurse, come back again; And what obscured in this fair volume lies,
And see how one another lends content: I have remember'd me, thou shalt hear our counsel. Find written in the margin of his eyes. Thou know'st, my daughter's of a pretty age.
This precious book of love, this unbound lover, Nurse. 'Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour. To beautify him only lacks a cover: La. Cap. She's not fourteen.
The fish lives in the sea ;' and 'tis much pride, Nurse. I'll lay fourteen of my teeth, And yet, to my teen3 be it spoken, I have but four,- | That book in many's eyes doth share the glory,
For fair without the fair within to hide: She is not fourteen: How long is it now
That in gold clasps locks in the golden story; To Lammas-tide ?
So shall you share all that he doth possess, La. Cap. A fortnight and odd days.
By having him, making yourself no less. Nurse. Even or odd, of all days in the year, Nurse. No less ? nay, bigger; women grow by Come Lammas-eve at night, shall she be fourteen. Susan and she -God rest all Christain souls ! Were of an age.-Well, Susan is with God;
La. Cap. Speak briefly, can you like of Paris'
love! She was too good for me: But as I said,
Jul. I'll look to like, if looking liking more: On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen;
But no more deep will I endart mine ere, That shall she, marry; I remember it well.
Than your consent gives strength to make it tiy. 'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years; And she was wean'd,-I never shall forget it,
Enter a Servant. Of all the days in the year, upon that day:
Serv. Madam, the guests are come, supper served For I had then laid wormwood to my dug, Sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall,
up, you called, my young lady asked for, the nurse
cursed in the pantry, and every thing in extremity. My lord and you were then at Mantua :
I must hence to wait; I beseech you, follow Nay. I do bear a brain:-But, as I said,
straight. When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple
La. Cap. We follow thee.-Juliet, the county Of my dug, and felt it bitter, pretty fool!
stays. To see it tetchy, and fall out with the dug.
Nurse. Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy Shake.quoth the dove-house: 'twas no need, I trow,
(Eseunt. To bid me trudge. And since that time it is eleven years:
SCENE IV.-A Street. For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood,5 She could have run and waddled all about, Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENTOLIO, with fire or si For even the day before, she broke her brow:
Maskers, Torchbearers, and others. And then my husband-God be with his soul! 'A was a merry man;-took up the child:
Rom. What, shall this speech be spoke for our
excuse ? Yea, quoth he, dost thou fall iipon thy face? Or shall we on without a pology? Thou wilt fall backward, when thou hast more wit;
Ben. The date is out of such prolixity: Wilt thou not, Jule? and by my holy dam.6
We'll have no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf, The pretty wretch left crying, and said-Ay:
Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath, To see now, how a jest shall come about!
Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper;? I warrant, an I should live a thousand years,
Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke I never should forget it; Wilt thou not, Jule?
After the prompter, for our entrance : quoth he:
But, let them measure us by what they will, And, pretty fool, it stinted, and said-Ay. La. Cap. Enough of this; I pray thee, hold thy Weal measure them a measure, and be gone.
Rom. Give me a torch, I am not for this Nurse. Yes, madam; Yet I cannot choose but Being but heavy, I will bear the light.
ambling; laugh, To think it should leave crying, and say-Ay:
Mer. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you
dance. And yet I warrant, it had upon its brow
Rom. Not I, believe me: you have dancing shoes, A bump as big as a young cockrel's stone;
With nimble soles: I have a soul of lead. A parlous knock; and it cried bitterly.
So stakes me to the ground, I cannot move. Yea, quoth my husband, fall'st upon thy face?
Mer. You are a lover: borrow Cupid's wings, Thou wilt fall backward, when thou com'st to age; And soar with them above a common bound. Wilt thou not, Jule? it stinted, and said-dy. Jul. And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, say I. To soar with his light feathers; and so bound,
Rom. I am too sore impierced with his shaft Nurse. Peace, I have done. God mark thee to
I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe: his grace!
Under love's heavy burden do I sink. Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nurs'd:
Mer. And, to sink in it, should you burden lore; An I might live to see thee married once,
Too great oppression for a tender thing. I have my wish.
Rom. Is love a tender thing! it is too rough, La. Cap. Marry, that marry is the very theme
Too rude, too boist'rous; and it pricks like thom. I came to talk of: -Tell me, daughter Juliet,
Mer. If love be rough with you, be rough with How stands your disposition to be married ?
love; Jul. It is an honor that I dream not of. Nurse. An honor! were not I thine only nurse, • Well made, as if he had been modelled in war. I'd say, thou had'st suck'd wisdom from thy teat. • The comments on ancient books were always printre 11. Cap. Well, think of marriage now; younger in the margin. than you,
'i.e. Is not yet caught, whose skin was wanted to kind
him. • To my sorrow.
• A scare-crow, a figure made up to frighten crows. • i. .. I have a perfect remembrance or recollectinn. : A dance. • The cross. • Holy dame, i.e. the blessed Virgin. • A toreb hearer was a constant appendage to every • It stopped crylog.
troop of maskers.
Priek love for pricking, and you beat love down.-| And more inconstant than the wind, who wous Give me a case to put my visage in;
Even now the frozen bosom of the north,
(Putting on a Mask. And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, A visor for a visor!-what care I,
Turning his face to the dew-dropping south. What curious eye doth quotes deformities?
Ben. This wind you talk of, blows us from our. Here are the beetle brows, shall blush for me.
selves; Ben. Come, knock, and enter; and no sooner in, Supper is done, and we shall come too late. But every man beta ke him to his legs.
Rom. I fear, too early: for my inind misgives, Rom. Å torch for me: let wantons, light of Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars, heart,
Shall bitterly begin his learful date
By some vile forfeit of untimely death:
Ben. Strike, drum.
[Exeunt. If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire of this (save reverence) love, wherein thou stick'st L'p to the ears.--Come, we burn daylight, ho.
SCENE V.-A Hall in Capulet's House. Rom. Nay, that's not so.
Musicians waiting. Enter Servants.
1 Serv. Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take We waste our lights in vain. like lamps by day.
away? he shift a trencher! he scrape a trencher! Take our good meaning: for our judgment siis
2 Serv. When good manners shall lie all in one Five times in that, ere once in our tive wits. But 'tis no wit to go. Rom. And we mean well, in going to this mask; two men's hands, and they unwashed too, 'tis a Mer. Why, may one ask?
i Serv. Away with the joint stools, remove the Rom. I dreamt a dream to-night.
court-cupboard,' look to ihe plate: - good thou, Mer.
And so did I.
save me a piece of march-pane;- and, as thou lovest
me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone, and Rom. Well, what was yours? Mer, That dreamers often lie.
Nell.-Antony! and Potpan! Rom. In bed, asleep, while they do dream things
2 Serv. Ay, boy, ready.
I Serv. You are looked for, and called for, asked true. Mer. O, then, I see, queen Mab hath been with for, and sought for, in the great chamber.
2 Sery. We cannot be here and there too.you.
Cheerly, boys; be brisk a while, and the longer She is the fairies' midwife; and she comes
liver take all.
[They retire behind. In shape no bigger than an agate-stone On the fore-finger of an alderman,
Enter CAPULET, fr., with the Guests and Maskers. Drawn with a team of little atomies? Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep:
Cap. Gentlemen, welcome! ladies, that have
their toes Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners' legs; The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers;
Unplagued with corns, will have a bout with you:The traces, of the smallest spider's web;
Ah ha, my mistresses! which of you all The collars, of the moonshine's watery beams :
Will now deny to dance! she that makes dainty, she,
I'll swear, hath corns; Am I come near you now? Her wbip, of cricket's bone; the lash, of film:
You are welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day, Her waggoner, a small grey-coated gnat, Not halt so big as a round little worm
That I have worn a visor; and could tell Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid:
A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear, Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut,
Such as would please :--'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone. Made by the joiner squirrel, or old grub,
You are welcome, gentlemen !-Come, musicians, Time out of mind the tairies' coach-makers.
play, And in this state she gallops night by night
A hall ! a hall !3 give room, and foot it, girls. Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of
[Music plays, and they dance. love:
More light, ye knaves; and turn the tables up, On courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies And quench the tire, the room is grown too hot.straight :
Ah, sirrah, this unlook'd-for sport comes well. O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees : Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet; O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream;
For you and I are past our dancing days: Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,
How long is't now, since last yourself and I Because their breath with sweet-meats tainted are.
Were in a mask? Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,
By’r lady, thirty years. And then dreams he of smelling out a suit:8
1 Cap. What, man! 'tis not so much, 'tis not so And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail,
much: Tickling a parson's nose as 'a lies asleep,
'Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio, Then dreams he of another beretice:
Come Pentecost as quickly as it will, Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,
Some five-and-twenty years; and then we mask'd. And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
2 Cap. 'Tis more, 'tis more: his son is elder, sır: Or breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,
His son is thirty. Of healths five fathom deep; and then anon
Will you tell me that? Drums in his ear; at which he starts, and wakes;
His son was but a ward two years ago. And, being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two, Rom. What lady's that which doth enrich the And sleeps again. This is that very Mab,
hand That plats the manes of horses in the night; of yonder knight? And bakes the elf-locks in foul sluttish hairs,
Serv. I know not, sir. Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes
Rom. O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs, Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night That presses them, and learns them first to bear,
Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear: Making them women of good carriage.
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! This, this is she
So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, Rom.
Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace; As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows. Thou talk'st of nothing.
The measured done, I'll watch her place of stand, Mer. True, I talk of dreams;
And, touching hers, make happy my rude hand. Which are the children of an idle brain,
Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! Beyot of nothing but vain fantasy;
For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night. Which is as thin of substance as the air ;
Tyb. This, by his voice, should be a Montague :
Fetch me my rapier, boy : What! dares the slave • Oterve.
Come hither, cover'd with an antic face, It was anciently the custom to strew rooms with rushes. To fleer and scorn at our solemnity? * Atoms.
• A place in court. 'i.e. Fairy-locks, locks of hair clotted and tangled in "A sideboard on which the plate was placed.
- Almond-cake. * 1. e. Make room. • The dance