marchpane; and, as thou lovest me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell.-Antony Potpan!(31)

Sec. Serv. Ay, boy, ready.

First Serv. You are looked for and called for, asked for and sought for, in the great chamber.

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

[They retire behind.

Enter CAPULET, Lady CAPULET, JULIET, TYBALT, and others of the house, with the Guests and Maskers.

Cap. Welcome, gentlemen! (32) 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,(33) 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're welcome, gentlemen!-Come, musicians, play.-
A hall, a hall! give room! and foot it, girls.—

[Music plays, and they dance.

(31) Antony Potpan!] The old eds. have "Anthonie and Potpan; an error occasioned by the immediately preceding "Grindstone and Nell."-Throughout this scene Potpan is the Second Servant; as was first observed by Capell,-who, in his text, had wrongly introduced a Third Servant, but in his Notes, &c., writes as follows; "The scene's idea is this: the enquirer after Potpan in 7 [the first speech] sees him not though at hand; nor hears, when what he says is observ'd upon in words denoting resentment for the reflection that's cast on him: a second hurrying speech from the enquirer, address'd to different servants, closes with a call to this Potpan, adding his other name; and this call he replies to in 'Ay, boy; ready,'" &c. Vol. ii. P. iv. pp. 6, 7.—I differ only slightly from Capell, who punctuates the words thus, "Antony! Potpan!"

(32) Welcome, gentlemen!] "Read 'You're welcome, gentlemen!' and so read five lines below. Further on we have 'You're welcome, gentlemen-Come, musicians, play.' For 'gentlemen' as a dissyllable see Walker's Shakespeare's Versification, &c., Art. xxxiv." W. N. LETTSOM. (33) She,] "Ômit 'She' with Pope." W. N. LETTSOM.

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?

Sec. Cap.

By'r lady, thirty years.

Cap. 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.
Sec. Cap. 'Tis more, 'tis more: his son is elder, sir:
His son is thirty.

Cap.

Will you tell me that?

His son was but a ward two years ago.

Rom. [to a Servant] 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 (34)

Like 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 blessèd my rude hand.
Did my heart love till now? fors wear 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,

(34) Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night] In my former edition I gave, with the quartos and the first folio, "It seemes she hangs vpon the cheeke of night" but I now adopt the reading of the second folio,a reading which (whencesoever the editor of that folio may have procured it) is assuredly a great improvement. "The repetition of the word 'beauty' in the next line but one, in my opinion, confirms the emendation of our second folio." STEEVENS.

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.

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.
Cap. Young Romeo is't?

Tyb.

'Tis he, that villain Romeo.

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,
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.

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.

Tyb. Why, uncle, 'tis a shame

Cap.

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 contráry 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!

Tyb. Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting
Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.
I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall,

[Exit.

Now seeming sweet, convert to bitter gall.(35)
Rom. [to Juliet] If I profane with my unworthiest hand
This holy shrine, the gentle fine (36) 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?

Jul. Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer. Rom. O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair. Jul. Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake. Rom. Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take. Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purg'd.

[Kissing her.

Jul. Then have my lips the sin that they have took. Rom. Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urg'd!

Jul.

Give me my sin again.

[Kissing her again. You kiss by the book.

Nurse. Madam, your mother craves a word with you.
Rom. 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

Shall have the chinks.(87)

(35)

but this intrusion shall,

Now seeming sweet, convert to bitter gall.]

Mr. W. N. Lettsom proposes

"but this intrusion shall

Now-seeming sweet convert to bitt'rest [so 4to 1599] gall.”

"I conceive," he says, "sweet' to be a substantive, and 'convert' an active verb."

(26) fine] Warburton's correction.-The old eds. have "sinne" (and "sin").

(37) chinks.] "Thus the old copies; for which Mr. Pope and the subsequent editors have substituted 'chink." ." MALONE.

Rom.

O dear account! my

Is she a Capulet?

life is my foe's debt.

Ben. Away, be gone; the sport is at the best.
Rom. Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest.
Cap. 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.
[To Sec. Cap.] Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late:
I'll to my rest.

[Exeunt all except Juliet and Nurse. Jul. Come hither, nurse. What is yond gentleman ? Nurse. The son and heir of old Tiberio.

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

Nurse. Marry, that, I think, be young Petruchio.

Jul. What's he that follows there, that would not dance? Nurse. I know not.

Jul. 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.

Jul. 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 loathèd enemy.
Nurse. What's this? what's this?
Jul.

Of one I danc'd withal.

Nurse.

A rhyme I learn'd even now [One calls within, "Juliet."

Anon, anon!

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

Enter Chorus.

Chor. 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;

[Exeunt.