1    Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away? He
2    shift a trencher? he scrape a trencher!

3    When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's
4    hands and they unwashed too, 'tis a foul thing.

5    Away with the joint-stools, remove the
6    court-cupboard, look to the plate. Good thou, save
7    me a piece of marchpane; and, as thou lovest me, let
8    the porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell.
9    Antony, and Potpan!

10   Ay, boy, ready.

11   You are looked for and called for, asked for and
12   sought for, in the great chamber.

13   We cannot be here and there too. Cheerly, boys; be
14   brisk awhile, and the longer liver take all.

15   Welcome, gentlemen! ladies that have their toes
16   Unplagued with corns will have a bout with you.
17   Ah ha, my mistresses! which of you all
18   Will now deny to dance? she that makes dainty,
19   She, I'll swear, hath corns; am I come near ye now?
20   Welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day
21   That I have worn a visor and could tell
22   A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear,
23   Such as would please: 'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone:
24   You are welcome, gentlemen! come, musicians, play.
25   A hall, a hall! give room! and foot it, girls.
Music plays, and they dance
26   More light, you knaves; and turn the tables up,
27   And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot.
28   Ah, sirrah, this unlook'd-for sport comes well.
29   Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet;
30   For you and I are past our dancing days:
31   How long is't now since last yourself and I
32   Were in a mask?

33   By'r lady, thirty years.

34   What, man! 'tis not so much, 'tis not so much:
35   'Tis since the nuptials of Lucentio,
36   Come pentecost as quickly as it will,
37   Some five and twenty years; and then we mask'd.

38   'Tis more, 'tis more, his son is elder, sir;
39   His son is thirty.

40   Will you tell me that?
41   His son was but a ward two years ago.

To a Servingman
42    What lady is that, which doth
43   enrich the hand
44   Of yonder knight?

45   I know not, sir.

46   O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
47   It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
48   Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear;
49   Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!
50   So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows,
51   As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows.
52   The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand,
53   And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand.
54   Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight!
55   For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.

56   This, by his voice, should be a Montague.
57   Fetch me my rapier, boy. What dares the slave
58   Come hither, cover'd with an antic face,
59   To fleer and scorn at our solemnity?
60   Now, by the stock and honour of my kin,
61   To strike him dead, I hold it not a sin.

62   Why, how now, kinsman! wherefore storm you so?

63   Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe,
64   A villain that is hither come in spite,
65   To scorn at our solemnity this night.

66   Young Romeo is it?

67   'Tis he, that villain Romeo.

68   Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone;
69   He bears him like a portly gentleman;
70   And, to say truth, Verona brags of him
71   To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth:
72   I would not for the wealth of all the town
73   Here in my house do him disparagement:
74   Therefore be patient, take no note of him:
75   It is my will, the which if thou respect,
76   Show a fair presence and put off these frowns,
77   And ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.

78   It fits, when such a villain is a guest:
79   I'll not endure him.

80   He shall be endured:
81   What, goodman boy! I say, he shall: go to;
82   Am I the master here, or you? go to.
83   You'll not endure him! God shall mend my soul!
84   You'll make a mutiny among my guests!
85   You will set cock-a-hoop! you'll be the man!

86   Why, uncle, 'tis a shame.

87   Go to, go to;
88   You are a saucy boy: is't so, indeed?
89   This trick may chance to scathe you, I know what:
90   You must contrary me! marry, 'tis time.
91   Well said, my hearts! You are a princox; go:
92   Be quiet, or--More light, more light! For shame!
93   I'll make you quiet. What, cheerly, my hearts!

94   Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting
95   Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.
96   I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall
97   Now seeming sweet convert to bitter gall.

To JULIET
98    If I profane with my unworthiest hand
99   This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:
100  My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
101  To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.

102  Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,
103  Which mannerly devotion shows in this;
104  For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,
105  And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.

106  Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?

107  Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.

108  O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;
109  They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.

110  Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.

111  Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take.
112  Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.

113  Then have my lips the sin that they have took.

114  Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged!
115  Give me my sin again.

116  You kiss by the book.

117  Madam, your mother craves a word with you.

118  What is her mother?

119  Marry, bachelor,
120  Her mother is the lady of the house,
121  And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous
122  I nursed her daughter, that you talk'd withal;
123  I tell you, he that can lay hold of her
124  Shall have the chinks.

125  Is she a Capulet?
126  O dear account! my life is my foe's debt.

127  Away, begone; the sport is at the best.

128  Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest.

129  Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone;
130  We have a trifling foolish banquet towards.
131  Is it e'en so? why, then, I thank you all
132  I thank you, honest gentlemen; good night.
133  More torches here! Come on then, let's to bed.
134  Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late:
135  I'll to my rest.

136  Come hither, nurse. What is yond gentleman?

137  The son and heir of old Tiberio.

138  What's he that now is going out of door?

139  Marry, that, I think, be young Petrucio.

140  What's he that follows there, that would not dance?

141  I know not.

142  Go ask his name: if he be married.
143  My grave is like to be my wedding bed.

144  His name is Romeo, and a Montague;
145  The only son of your great enemy.

146  My only love sprung from my only hate!
147  Too early seen unknown, and known too late!
148  Prodigious birth of love it is to me,
149  That I must love a loathed enemy.

150  What's this? what's this?

151  A rhyme I learn'd even now
152  Of one I danced withal.

153  Anon, anon!
154  Come, let's away; the strangers all are gone.