SCENE IV, A Street. Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with five or six Maskers, Torch-bearers, and Others. Rom. What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse? Or shall we on without apology? Ben. The date is out of such prolixity: We'll have no Cupid hood-wink'd with a scarf, Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke But, let them measure us by what they will, We'll measure them a measure, and be gone. Rom. 15 Give me a torch,-I am not for this ambling; Being but heavy, I will bear the light. Mer. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance. Rom. Not I, believe me: you have dancing shoes, With nimble soles: I have a soul of lead, So stakes me to the ground, I cannot move. Mer. You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings, And soar with them above a common bound. Rom. I am too sore enpierced with his shaft, To soar with his light feathers; and so bound, I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe: Under love's heavy burden do I sink. Mer. And, to sink in it, should you burden love; Too great oppression for a tender thing. Rom. Is love a tender thing? it is too rough, Too rude, too boist'rous; and it pricks like thorn, Mer. If love be rough with you, be rough with love; Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.- A visor for a visor!-what care I, [Putting on a mask. What curious eye doth quote deformities? Here are the beetle-brows, shall blush for me. But every man betake him to his legs. Rom. A torch for me: let wantons, light of heart, Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels; For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase,I'll be a candle-holder, and look on, The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done 16. Mer. "Tut! dun's the mouse, the constable's own word: If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire Mer. I mean, sir, in delay We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day. Take our good meaning; for our judgement sits Rom. And we mean well, in going to this mask; But 'tis no wit to go. Mer. Why, may one ask? Rom. I dreamt a dream to-night. Mer. And so did I. That dreamers often lie. Rom. Well, what was yours? Rom. In bed, asleep, while they do dream things true. Mer. O, then, I see, queen Mab hath been with you. She is the fairies' midwife 13; and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate-stone Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love: Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy; Which is as thin of substance as the air; And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, Ben. This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves; Supper is done, and we shall come too late. Rom. I fear, too early: for my mind misgives, With this night's revels; and expire the term SCENE V. A Hall in Capulet's House. Musicians waiting. Enter Servants. [Exeunt. 1 Serv. Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away? he shift a trencher! he scrape a trencher! 2 Serv. When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's hands, and they unwash'd too, 'tis a foul thing. 1 Serv. Away with the joint-stools, remove the court-cupboard, look to the plate:-good thou, save |