And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence,
Turning his side to the dew-dropping south.

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 V. 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.

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