Her collars of the moonshine's watery beams;
Her whip of cricket's bone; the lash of film:
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 o' 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 sweetmeats tainted are.
Sometimes she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,
And then dreams he of smelling out a suit:
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:
Sometimes 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,
That presses them, and learns them first to bear,
Making them women of good carriage.

This is she

Rom.

Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace,

Thou talk'st of nothing.

a A suit. A court solicitation was called a suit.

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.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V.-A Hall in Capulet's House.

Musicians waiting. Enter Servants.

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, 't is a foul thing.

1 Serv. Away with the joint-stools, remove the courtcupboard, 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.

a Marchpane-a kind of sweet cake or biscuit, sometimes called almond-cake. Our maccaroous are diminutive marchpanes.

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. Welcome, gentlemen! 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 ye now? 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; 't is gone, 't is gone, 't is gone: You are welcome, gentlemen!-Come, musicians, play. A hall! a hall! 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 unlooked-for sport comes well. Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin a 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! 't is not so much, 't is not so much :

"T is since the nuptial of Lucentio,

Come pentecost as quickly as it will,

Some five-and-twenty years; and then we mask'd.

2 Cap. T is more, 't is more: his son is elder, sir; His son is thirty.

a Good cousin Capulet. The word cousin, in Shakspere, is applied to any collateral relation of whatever degree.

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

As 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 blessed my rude hand.
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 antic 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.
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,

"T is he, that villain Romeo.

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.

He shall be endur'd.

1 Cap. What, goodman boy!-I say, he shall;-Go to ;Am I the master here, or you? go to.

my

You'll not endure him!-God shall mend
You'll make a mutiny among my guests!
You will set cock-a-hoop! you'll be the man!
Tyb. Why, uncle, 't is a shame.

1 Cap.
Go to, go to,
You are a saucy boy: Is 't so indeed?

soul

This trick may chance to scath a you;-I know what.
You must contrary me!-marry, 't is time-

Well said, my hearts!-You are a princox; go:-
Be quiet, or More light, more light. For shame!-
I'll make you quiet; What!-Cheerly, my hearts.
Tyb. Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting
Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.
I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall,
Now seeming sweet, convert to bitter gall.
Rom. If I profane with my unworthiest hand

[Exit.

[To JULIET.

This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this,

My lips, two blushing pilgrims ready stand

To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. Jul. Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,

Which mannerly devotion shows in this;

For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.

Rom. Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?

a To scath-to injure.

b Contrary. Sir Philip Sidney, and many other old writers, use this as a verb.

c Princox-coxcomb.