Capulet, Tybalt, Citizens and Servants._] MONTAGUE. Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach? Speak, nephew, were you by when it began? BENVOLIO. Here were the servants of your grievances, Or else beshrew them both. Therefore, out of door? NURSE. Marry, bachelor, Her mother is the sun! Arise fair sun and kill the envious moon, Who is it now To Lammas-tide? LADY CAPULET. A jealous-hood, a jealous-hood! Enter Servants, with spits, logs and baskets. Now, fellow, what’s there? FIRST SERVANT. You are welcome, gentlemen! Come, musicians, play. A hall, a hall, give room! And foot it, girls. [_Music plays, and they unwash’d too, ’tis a shame. CAPULET. Go to, go to! You are too hot. Ah sirrah, this