SERVANT:
Where's Potpan that he helps not to take away?
He shift a trencher, he scrape a trencher?
1 SERVINGMAN:
When good manners shall lie
all in one or two men's hands,
and they unwash'd too, 'tis a foul thing.
SERVANT:
Away with the joint-stools, remove the court-cupboard,
look to the plate: good thou, save me a piece of marchpane,
and as thou loves me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone,
and Nell, Antony and Potpan.
2 SERVINGMAN:
Ay boy ready.
SERVANT:
You are look'd for, and call'd for,
ask'd for, and sought for
3 SERVINGMAN:
We cannot be here and there too, cheerly boys,
be brisk a while, and the longer liver take all.
Enter old Capulet with all the guests and gentlewomen
CAPULET:
Welcome gentlemen, Ladies that have their toes
Unplagued with corns, will walk about with you:
Ah 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.
Music plays and they dance.
A hall, a hall, give room, and foot it girls,
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
2 CAPULET:
Berlady 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.
2 CAPULET:
'Tis more, 'tis more, his son is elder sir:
CAPULET:
Will you tell me that?
His son was but a ward two years ago.
ROMEO:
What Lady's that which doth enrich the hand
ROMEO:
O she doth teach the torches to burn bright:
It seems she 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.
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,
A' 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 you 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.
CAPULET:
He shall be endured.
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.
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 bitt'rest gall.
ROMEO:
If I profane with my unworthiest hand,
This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this,
My lips two blushing Pilgrims ready stand,
To smooth the rough touch with a gentle 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.
JULIET:
Then have my lips the sin that they have took.
ROMEO:
Sin from my lips, O trespass sweetly urg'd:
JULIET:
You kiss by th' book.
NURSE:
Madam your mother craves a word with you.
ROMEO:
What is her mother?
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
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,
JULIET:
Come hither Nurse, what is yond gentleman?
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?
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.
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
One calls within: Juliet.
Come let's away, the strangers all are gone.