Here are the beetle-brows fhall blufh for me.

Ben. Come, knock and enter; and no fooner in, But ev'ry man betake him to his legs.

Rom. A torch for me. Let wantons, light of heart, Tickle the fenfeless rushes with their heels; For I am proverb'd with a grandfire-phrafe; I'll be a candle-holder, and look on.

The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done.

Mer. Tut! dun's the mouse, the conftable's own word; If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire; Or, fave your reverence, love, wherein thou stick'st Up to thine ears: come, we burn day-light, ho. Rom. Nay, that's not fo.

Mer. I mean, Sir, in delay

We burn our lights by light, and lamps by day.
Take our good meaning, for our judgment fits.
Five times in that, ere once in our fine wits.

Rom. And we mean well in going to this mask;
But 'tis no wit to go.

Mer. Why, may one ask?

Rom, I dreamt a dream to-night.
Mer. And fo did I.

Rom. Well; what was yours?

Mer. That dreamers often lye.

Rom, in bed afleep; while they do dream things true. Mer. O, then I fee, Queen Mab had been with you. (4)


(4) 0, then I fee, Queen Mab bath been with you:

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She is the Fairies' Midwife.] Thus begins that admirable Speech upon the Effects of the Imagination in Dreams. But, Queen Mab the Fairies' Midwife? What is the then Queen of? Why, the Fairies.' What! and their Midwife too? Sure, this is a wonderful Condefcenfion in her Royal Highnefs. But this is not the greatest of the Abfurdities. Let us fee upon what Occafion fhe is introduced, and under what Quality. Why, as a Being that has great Power over human Imaginations. But then, according to the Laws of common Sense, if he has any Title given her, muft not that Title have reference to the Employment fhe is put upon? First, then, fhe is called Queen : which is very pertinent; for that defigns her Power: Then he is called the Fairies' Midwife; but what has that to do with the Point in hand? If we would think that Shakespeare wrote Senfe, we muft


She is the fancy's mid-wife, and the comes
In fhape no bigger than an agat-ftone
On the fore-finger of an alderman;
Drawn with a team of little atomies,
Athwart mens' nofes as they lie asleep:

Her waggon-fpokes made of long spinners' legs :
The cover, of the wings of grafhoppers;
The traces, of the smallest spider's web;
The collars, of the moonfhine's watry beams;
Her whip, of cricket's bone; the lash, of film;
Her waggoner a small grey-coated gnat,
Not half fo big as a round little worm,
Prickt from the lazy finger of a maid.
Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut,
Made by the joiner fquirrel, or old grub,
Time out of mind the fairies' coach-makers:
And in this state fhe gallops, night by night,
Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love:
On courtiers' knees, that dream on curtfies ftrait :
O'er lawyers fingers, who ftrait dream on fees:
O'er ladies' lips, who ftrait on kiffes dream,
Which oft the angry Mab with blifters plagues,
Because their breaths with fweet-meats tainted are.
Sometimes the gallops o'er a lawyer's nofe,
And then dreams he of fmelling out a fuit:
And fometimes comes the with a tithe-pig's tail,
Tickling the parfon as he lies afleep;

Then dreams he of another benefice.
Sometimes the driveth o'er a foldier's neck,
And then he dreams of cutting foreign throats,
Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,

fay, we wrote the Fancy's Midwife: and this is a Title the
moft a propos in the World, as it introduces all that is faid afterwards
of her Vagaries. Befides, it exactly quadrates with these Lines:
-I talk of Dreams;

Which are the Children of an idle Brain,
Begot of nothing but vain Fantasy.

Thefe Dreams are begot upon Fantay, and Mab is the Midwife to bring them forth. And Fancy's Midwife is a Phrase altogether in the Manner of our Author.

Mr. Warburton.


Of healths five fathom deep; and then anon
Drums in his ears, at which he ftarts and wakes;
And, being thus frighted, fwears a prayer or two,
And fleeps again. This is that very Mab,
That plats the manes of horfes in the night,
And cakes the elf-locks in foul fluttish hairs,
Which, once untangled, much misfortune bodes.
This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,
That preffes them, and learns them first to bear;
Making them women of good carriage:
This is fhe-

Rom. Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace;
Thou talk'ft of nothing."

Mer. True, I talk of dreams;

Which are the children of an idle brain,
Begot of nothing, but vain phantafy;
Which is as thin of fubftance as the air,
And more unconstant than the wind; who wooes
Ev'n now the frozen bofom of the north,
And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence,
Turning his face to the dew-dropping fouth.

Ben. This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves; Supper is done, and we fhall come too late.

Rom. I fear, too early; for my mind mifgives,.
Some confequence, yet hanging in the stars,
Shall bitterly begin his fearful date

With this night's revels; and expire the term
Of a defpifed life clos'd in my breaft,
By fome vile forfeit of untimely death.
But he, that hath the fteerage of my course,
Direct my fuit! On, lufty gentlemen.
Ben. Strike, drum.

[They march about the Stage, and Exeunt.


SCENE changes, to a Hall in Capulet's House.

Enter Servants, with Napkins.

1 Serv. W


Here's Potpan, that he helps not to take away; he shift a trencher! he fcrape a

2 Serv. When good manners fhall lie all in one or two men's hands, and they unwash'd too, 'tis a foul thing.

1 Serv. Away with the joint-ftools, remove the courtcup-board, look to the plate: good thou, fave me a piece of march-pane; and, as thou loveft me, let the porter let in Sufan Grindstone, and Nell. Antony and Potpan

2 Serv. Ay, boy, ready.

1 Serv. You are look'd for, call'd for, afk'd for, and fought 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.


Enter all the Guests and Ladies, with the maskers.

1 Cap. Welcome, gentlemen. Ladies, that have your


Unplagu'd with corns, we'll have a bout with you.
Ah me, my miftreffes, which of you all

Will now deny to dance? fhe that makes dainty,
I'll fwear, hath corns; am I come near you now?
Welcome, all, gentlemen; I've seen the day
That I have worn a vifor, and could tell
A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear,

Such as would please: 'tis gone; 'tis gone; 'tis gone! :
[Mufick 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 fport comes well.
Nay, fit; nay, fit, good coufin Capulet,
For you and I are paft our dancing days :



How long is't now fince laft yourself and I
Were in a mask?

2 Cap. By'r lady, thirty years.

Cap. What man! 'tis not fo much, 'tis not so much; "Tis fince the nuptial of Lucentio,

Come pentecoft 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 fon is thirty.

1 Cap. Will you tell me that?

His fon 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, the 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 ufe, for earth too dear!
So fhews a fnowy dove trooping with crows,
As yonder lady o'er her fellows fhows.

The measure done, I'll watch her place of ftand,
And, touching hers, make happy my rude hand.
Did my
heart love 'till now? forfwear it, fight;

I never faw true beauty 'till this night.

Tyb. This by his voice fhould be a Montague.
Fetch me my rapier, boy: what! dares the flave
Come hither cover'd with an antick face,

To fleer and fcorn at our folemnity?
Now by the ftock and honour of my kin,

To ftrike him dead I hold it not a fin.

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Cap. Why, how now, kinfman, wherefore ftorm you fo?

Tyb. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe:

A villain, that is hither come in fpight,

To fcorn at our folemnity this night.
Cap. Young Romeo, is't?

Tyb. That villain Romeo.

Cap. Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone;

He bears him like a portly gentleman :

And, to fay' truth, Verana brags of him,


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