569Ser. Where's Potpan, that he helpes not to take away?

570He shift a Trencher? he scrape a Trencher?

5711. When good manners, shall lie in one or two mens

572hands, and they vnwasht too, 'tis a foule thing.

573Ser. Away with the Ioynstooles, remoue the Court-

574cubbord, looke to the Plate: good thou, saue mee a piece

575of Marchpane, and as thou louest me, let the Porter let in

576Susan Grindstone, and Nell, Anthonie and Potpan.

5772. I Boy readie.

578Ser. You are lookt for, and cal'd for, askt for, & sought

579for, in the great Chamber.

5801 We cannot be here and there too, chearly Boyes,

581Be brisk awhile, and the longer liuer take all.

5851. Capu. Welcome Gentlemen,

586Ladies that haue their toes

587Vnplagu'd with Cornes, will walke about with you:

588Ah my Mistresses, which of you all

589Will now deny to dance? She that makes dainty,

590She Ile sweare hath Cornes: am I come neare ye now?

591Welcome Gentlemen, I haue seene the day

592That I haue worne a Visor, and could tell

593A whispering tale in a faire Ladies eare:

594Such as would please: 'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone,

595You are welcome Gentlemen, come Musitians play:

597A Hall, Hall, giue roome, and foote it Girles,

598More light you knaues, and turne the Tables vp:

599And quench the fire, the Roome is growne too hot.

600Ah sirrah, this vnlookt for sport comes well:

601Nay sit, nay sit, good Cozin Capulet,

602For you and I are past our dauncing daies:

603How long 'ist now since last your selfe and I

604Were in a Maske?

6052. Capu. Berlady thirty yeares.

6061. Capu. What man: 'tis not so much, 'tis not so much,

607'Tis since the Nuptiall of Lucentio,

608Come Pentycost as quickely as it will,

609Some fiue and twenty yeares, and then we Maskt.

6102. Cap. 'Tis more, 'tis more, his Sonne is elder sir:

611His Sonne is thirty.

6123. Cap. Will you tell me that?

613His Sonne was but a Ward two yeares agoe.

614Rom. What Ladie is that which doth inrich the hand

615Of yonder Knight?

616Ser. I know not sir.

617Rom. O she doth teach the Torches to burne bright:

618It seemes she hangs vpon the cheeke of night,

619As a rich Iewel in an AEthiops eare:

620Beauty too rich for vse, for earth too deare:

621So shewes a Snowy Doue trooping with Crowes,

622As yonder Lady ore her fellowes showes;

623The measure done, Ile watch her place of stand,

624And touching hers, make blessed my rude hand.

58 The Tragedie of Romeo and Iuliet.

625Did my heart loue till now, forsweare it sight,

626For I neuer saw true Beauty till this night.

627Tib. This by his voice, should be a Mountague.

628Fetch me my Rapier Boy, what dares the slaue

629Come hither couer'd with an antique face,

630To fleere and scorne at our Solemnitie?

631Now by the stocke and Honour of my kin,

632To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.

633Cap. Why how now kinsman,

634Wherefore storme you so?

635Tib. Vncle this is a Mountague, our foe:

636A Villaine that is hither come in spight,

637To scorne at our Solemnitie this night.

638Cap. Young Romeo is it?

639Tib. 'Tis he, that Villaine Romeo.

640Cap. Content thee gentle Coz, let him alone,

641A beares him like a portly Gentleman:

642And to say truth, Verona brags of him,

643To be a vertuous and well gouern'd youth:

644I would not for the wealth of all the towne,

645Here in my house do him disparagement:

646Therfore be patient, take no note of him,

647It is my will, the which if thou respect,

648Shew a faire presence, and put off these frownes,

649An ill beseeming semblance for a Feast.

650Tib. It fits when such a Villaine is a guest,

651Ile not endure him.

652Cap. He shall be endu'rd.

653What goodman boy, I say he shall, go too,

654Am I the Maister here or you? go too,

655Youle not endure him, God shall mend my soule,

656Youle make a Mutinie among the Guests:

657You will set cocke a hoope, youle be the man.

658Tib. Why Vncle, 'tis a shame.

659Cap. Go too, go too,

660You are a sawcy Boy, 'ist so indeed?

661This tricke may chance to scath you, I know what,

662You must contrary me, marry 'tis time.

663Well said my hearts, you are a Princox, goe,

664Be quiet, or more light, more light for shame,

665Ile make you quiet. What, chearely my hearts.

666Tib. Patience perforce, with wilfull choler meeting,

667Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting:

668I will withdraw, but this intrusion shall

669Now seeming sweet, conuert to bitter gall. Exit.

670Rom. If I prophane with my vnworthiest hand,

671This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this,

672My lips to blushing Pilgrims did ready stand,

673To smooth that rough touch, with a tender kisse.

674Iul. Good Pilgrime,

675You do wrong your hand too much.

676Which mannerly deuotion shewes in this,

677For Saints haue hands, that Pilgrims hands do tuch,

678And palme to palme, is holy Palmers kisse.

679Rom. Haue not Saints lips, and holy Palmers too?

680Iul. I Pilgrim, lips that they must vse in prayer.

681Rom. O then deare Saint, let lips do what hands do,

682They pray (grant thou) least faith turne to dispaire.

683Iul. Saints do not moue,

684Though grant for prayers sake.

685Rom. Then moue not while my prayers effect I take:

686Thus from my lips, by thine my sin is purg'd.

687Iul. Then haue my lips the sin that they haue tooke.

688Rom. Sin from my lips? O trespasse sweetly vrg'd:

689Giue me my sin againe.

690Iul. You kisse by'th'booke.

691Nur. Madam your Mother craues a word with you.

692Rom. What is her Mother?

693Nurs. Marrie Batcheler,

694Her Mother is the Lady of the house,

695And a good Lady, and a wise, and Vertuous,

696I Nur'st her Daughter that you talkt withall:

697I tell you, he that can lay hold of her,

698Shall haue the chincks.

699Rom. Is she a Capulet?

700O deare account! My life is my foes debt.

701Ben. Away, be gone, the sport is at the best.

702Rom. I so I feare, the more is my vnrest.

703Cap. Nay Gentlemen prepare not to be gone,

704We haue a trifling foolish Banquet towards:

705Is it e'ne so? why then I thanke you all.

706I thanke you honest Gentlemen, good night:

707More Torches here: come on, then let's to bed.

708Ah sirrah, by my faie it waxes late,

709Ile to my rest.

710Iuli. Come hither Nurse,

711What is yond Gentleman:

712Nur. The Sonne and Heire of old Tyberio.

713Iuli. What's he that now is going out of doore?

714Nur. Marrie that I thinke be young Petruchio.

715Iul. What's he that follows here that would not dance?

716Nur. I know not.

717Iul. Go aske his name: if he be married,

718My graue is like to be my wedded bed.

719Nur. His name is Romeo, and a Mountague,

720The onely Sonne of your great Enemie.

721Iul. My onely Loue sprung from my onely hate,

722Too early seene, vnknowne, and knowne too late,

723Prodigious birth of Loue it is to me,

724That I must loue a loathed Enemie.

725Nur. What's this? whats this?

726Iul. A rime, I learne euen now

727Of one I dan'st withall.

729Nur. Anon, anon:

730Come let's away, the strangers all are gone.