A hall, a hall, give room! And foot it, girls! 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?