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Benvolio:
This wind you talk of blows us from ourselves:
Supper is done, and we shall come too late.
Romeo:
I fear too early: for my mind misgives
Some consequence yet hanging in the stars,
Shall bitterly begin his fearful date
With this night’s revels; and expire the term
Of a despised life, clos’d in my breast
By some vile forfeit of untimely death.
But he that hath the steerage of my course
Direct my suit. On, lusty gentlemen!
Benvolio:
Strike, drum.
(Exeunt.)
Scene Five. A Hall in Capulet’s House.
Musicians waiting. Enter Servants.
First Servant:
Where’s Potpan, that he helps not to take away?
He shift a trencher! He scrape a trencher!
Second Servant:
When good manners shall lie all in one or two men’s hands, and they unwash’d too, ’tis a foul thing.
First Servant:
Away with the join-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!
Second Servant:
Ay, boy, ready.
First Servant:
You are looked for and called for, asked for and sought for, in the great chamber.
Second Servant:
We cannot be here and there too. Cheerly, boys. Be brisk awhile, and the longer liver take all.
(Exeunt.)
Enter Capulet, etc. with the Guests and Gentlewomen to the Maskers.
Capulet:
Welcome, gentlemen, ladies that have their toes
Unplagu’d with corns will have a bout 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.
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?
Capulet's Cousin:
By’r Lady, thirty years.