Scene V.
A Hall in Capulet's House
Musicians waiting. Enter Servingmen with napkins
1 Servingman. Where's Potpan, that he helps not
to take away? He [shift a trencher]! he scrape a
trencher!
2 Servingman. When good manners shall lie all
in one or two men's hands and they unwashed too,
'tis a foul thing.
1 Servingman. Away with the [joint-stools], remove
the [court-cupboard], look to the plate.—[Good thou],
save me a piece of [marchpane]; and, as thou lovest
10me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone and
Nell.—Antony!—and Potpan!
2 Servingman. Ay, boy, ready.
1 Servingman. You are looked for and called for,
asked for and sought for, in the great chamber.
2 Servingman. We cannot be here and there too.
—[Cheerly], boys; be brisk a while, and [the longer]
liver take all.
Enter Capulet, with Juliet and others of his house, meeting the Guests and Maskers
Capulet. Welcome, gentlemen! ladies that have their [toes]
Unplagu'd 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; 'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis 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, you knaves; and [turn the tables up],
And quench [the fire], the room is grown too hot.—
Ah, sirrah, this unlook'd-for sport comes well.—
Nay, sit, nay, sit, good [cousin] 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 Capulet. By 'r lady, thirty years.
Capulet. What, man! 'tis not so much, 'tis not so much!
'Tis since the [nuptial] of Lucentio,
Come Pentecost as quickly as it will,
Some five and twenty years; and then we mask'd.
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2 Capulet. 'Tis more, 'tis more! His son is elder, sir;
His son is thirty.
Capulet. Will you tell me that?
His son was but a ward two years ago.
Romeo. [To a Servingman] [What lady is that], which doth enrich the hand
Of yonder knight?
Servingman. I know not, sir.
Romeo. O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
[Her beauty hangs] upon the cheek of night
Like a rich jewel in an [Ethiope'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.
Tybalt. 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.
Capulet. Why, how now, kinsman! wherefore storm you so?
Tybalt. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe,
A villain that is hither come [in spite],
To scorn at our solemnity this night.
Capulet. Young Romeo is it?
Tybalt. 'Tis he, that villain Romeo.
Capulet. [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 the 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,
Show a fair presence and put off these frowns,
An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.
Tybalt. [It fits] when such a villain is a guest;
I'll not endure him.
Capulet. He shall be endur'd;
What, goodman boy! I say he shall. Go to;
Am I the master here, or you? go to.
You'll not endure him!—[God shall mend my soul!]—
You'll make a mutiny among my guests!
You will set [cock-a-hoop!] you'll be the man!
Tybalt. Why, uncle, 'tis a shame.
Capulet Go to, go to;
You are a saucy boy.—Is 't so, indeed?—
This trick may chance to [scathe] you,—I know what.
You must [contrary] me! marry, 'tis 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!
Tybalt. [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. [Exit.
Romeo. [To Juliet] If I profane with my unworthiest hand
This holy shrine, the [gentle fine] is this:
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
Juliet. 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.
Romeo. Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?
Juliet. Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.
Romeo. O, then, dear saint, [let lips do] what hands do;
They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.
Juliet. Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.
Romeo. Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take.
Thus from my lips by thine my sin is purg'd. [[Kissing her].
Juliet. Then have my lips the sin that they have took.
Romeo. Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urg'd!
Give me my sin again.
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Juliet. You kiss by the book.
Nurse. Madam, your mother craves a word with you.
Romeo. [What] is her mother?
Nurse. Marry, bachelor,
Her mother is the lady of the house,
And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous.
I nurs'd her daughter that you talk'd withal;
I tell you, he that can lay hold of her
Romeo. Is she a Capulet?
O dear account! [my life] is my foe's debt.
Benvolio. Away, be gone; the sport is at the best.
Romeo. Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest.
Capulet. Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone;
We have a trifling [foolish] banquet towards.—
Is [it e'en so?] why, then, I thank you all;
I thank you, honest gentlemen; good night.—
More torches here!—Come on then, let's to bed.
Ah, sirrah, [by my fay], it waxes late;
I'll to my rest. [Exeunt all but Juliet and Nurse.
Juliet. [Come hither, nurse]. What is yond gentleman?
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Nurse. The son and heir of old Tiberio.
Juliet. What's he that now is going out of door?
Nurse. Marry, that, I think, be young Petruchio.
Juliet. What's he that follows there, that would not dance?
Nurse. I know not.
Juliet. Go, ask his name.—[If he be married],
My grave is like to be my wedding bed.
Nurse. His name is Romeo, and a Montague,
The only son of your great enemy.
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Juliet. My only love sprung from my only hate!
Too early seen unknown, and known too late!
[Prodigious] birth of love it is to me,
That I must love a loathed enemy.
Nurse. What's this? what's this?
Juliet. A rhyme I learn'd even now
Of one I danc'd withal. [One calls within 'Juliet.'
Nurse. Anon, anon!—
Come, let's away; the strangers all are gone. [Exeunt.
Capulet's Garden
ACT II
Now old desire doth in his death-bed lie,
And young affection [gapes] to be his heir;
That fair for which love groan'd [for] and would die,
With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair.
Now Romeo is belov'd and loves again,
Alike bewitched by the charm of looks,
But to his foe suppos'd he must complain,
And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks.
Being held a foe, he may not have access
To breathe such vows as lovers [use] to swear;
And she as much in love, her means much less
To meet her new-beloved any where.
But passion lends them power, time means, to meet,
Tempering [extremities] with extreme sweet. [Exit.