The Same. A Street. | |
| |
Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO. | |
| Mer. Where the devil should this Romeo be? | |
| Came he not home to-night? | 4 |
| Ben. Not to his father’s; I spoke with his man. | |
| Mer. Why that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline, | |
| Torments him so, that he will sure run mad. | |
| Ben. Tybalt, the kinsman of old Capulet, | 8 |
| Hath sent a letter to his father’s house. | |
| Mer. A challenge, on my life. | |
| Ben. Romeo will answer it. | |
| Mer. Any man that can write may answer a letter. | 12 |
| Ben. Nay, he will answer the letter’s master, how he dares, being dared. | |
| Mer. Alas! poor Romeo, he is already dead; stabbed with a white wench’s black eye; shot through the ear with a love-song; the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow-boy’s butt-shaft; and is he a man to encounter Tybalt? | |
| Ben. Why, what is Tybalt? | |
| Mer. More than prince of cats, I can tell you. O! he is the courageous captain of compliments. He fights as you sing prick-song, keeps time, distance, and proportion; rests me his minim rest, one, two, and the third in your bosom; the very butcher of a silk button, a duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of the very first house, of the first and second cause. Ah! the immortal passado! the punto reverso! the hay! | 16 |
| Ben. The what? | |
| Mer. The pox of such antick, lisping, affecting fantasticoes, these new tuners of accents!—‘By Jesu, a very good blade!—a very tall man! a very good whore.’—Why, is not this a lamentable thing, grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these pardonnez-mois, who stand so much on the new form that they cannot sit at ease on the old bench? O, their bons, their bons! | |
| |
Enter ROMEO. | |
| Ben. Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo. | 20 |
| Mer. Without his roe, like a dried herring. O flesh, flesh, how art thou fishified! Now is he for the numbers that Petrarch flowed in: Laura to his lady was but a kitchen-wench; marry, she had a better love to be-rime her; Dido a dowdy; Cleopatra a gipsy; Helen and Hero hildings and harlots; Thisbe, a grey eye or so, but not to the purpose. Signior Romeo, bon jour! there’s a French salutation to your French slop. You gave us the counterfeit fairly last night. | |
| Rom. Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you? | |
| Mer. The slip, sir, the slip; can you not conceive? | |
| Rom Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was great; and in such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy. | 24 |
| Mer. That’s as much as to say, such a case as yours constrains a man to bow in the hams. | |
| Rom. Meaning—to curtsy. | |
| Mer. Thou hast most kindly hit it. | |
| Rom. A most courteous exposition. | 28 |
| Mer. Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy. | |
| Rom. Pink for flower. | |
| Mer. Right. | |
| Rom. Why, then, is my pump well flowered. | 32 |
| Mer. Well said; follow me this jest now till thou hast worn out the pump, that, when the single sole of it is worn, the jest may remain after the wearing sole singular. | |
| Rom. O single-soled jest! solely singular for the singleness. | |
| Mer. Come between us, good Benvolio; my wit faints. | |
| Rom. Switch and spurs, switch and spurs; or I’ll cry a match. | 36 |
| Mer. Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, I have done, for thou hast more of the wild-goose in one of thy wits than, I am sure, I have in my whole five. Was I with you there for the goose? | |
| Rom. Thou wast never with me for anything when thou wast not here for the goose. | |
| Mer. I will bite thee by the ear for that jest. | |
| Rom. Nay, good goose, bite not. | 40 |
| Mer. Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most sharp sauce. | |
| Rom. And is it not then well served in to a sweet goose? | |
| Mer. O! here’s a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an inch narrow to an ell broad. | |
| Rom. I stretch it out for that word ‘broad;’ which added to the goose, proves thee far and wide broad goose. | 44 |
| Mer. Why, is not this better now than groaning for love? now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; now art thou what thou art, by art as well as by nature: for this drivelling love is like a great natural, that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in a hole. | |
| Ben. Stop there, stop there. | |
| Mer. Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair. | |
| Ben. Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large. | 48 |
| Mer. O! thou art deceived; I would have made it short; for I was come to the whole depth of my tale, and meant indeed to occupy the argument no longer. | |
| Rom. Here’s goodly gear! | |
| |
Enter Nurse and PETER. | |
| Mer. A sail, a sail! | 52 |
| Ben. Two, two; a shirt and a smock. | |
| Nurse. Peter! | |
| Peter. Anon! | |
| Nurse. My fan, Peter. | 56 |
| Mer. Good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan’s the fairer face. | |
| Nurse. God ye good morrow, gentlemen. | |
| Mer. God ye good den, fair gentlewoman. | |
| Nurse. Is it good den? | 60 |
| Mer. ’Tis no less, I tell you; for the bawdy hand of the dial is now upon the prick of noon. | |
| Nurse. Out upon you! what a man are you! | |
| Rom. One, gentlewoman, that God hath made for himself to mar. | |
| Nurse. By my troth, it is well said; ‘for himself to mar,’ quoth a’?—Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I may find the young Romeo? | 64 |
| Rom. I can tell you; but young Romeo will be older when you have found him than he was when you sought him: I am the youngest of that name, for fault of a worse. | |
| Nurse. You say well. | |
| Mer. Yea! is the worst well? very well took, i’ faith; wisely, wisely. | |
| Nurse. If you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with you. | 68 |
| Ben. She will indite him to some supper. | |
| Mer. A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! So ho! | |
| Rom. What hast thou found? | |
Mer. No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie, that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent. [Sings.| | An old hare hoar, and an old hare hoar, |
| Is very good meat in Lent: |
| But a hare that is hoar, is too much for a score, |
| When it hoars ere it be spent. |
| 72 |
| Romeo, will you come to your father’s? we’ll to dinner thither. | |
| Rom. I will follow you. | |
| Mer. Farewell, ancient lady; farewell, [Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO. | |
| Nurse. Marry, farewell! I pray you, sir, what saucy merchant was this, that was so full of his ropery? | 76 |
| Rom. A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself talk, and will speak more in a minute than he will stand to in a month. | |
| Nurse. An a’ speak anything against me, I’ll take him down, an a’ were lustier than he is, and twenty such Jacks; and if I cannot, I’ll find those that shall. Scurvy knave! I am none of his flirt-gills; I am none of his skeins-mates. [To PETER.] And thou must stand by too, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure! | |
| Pet. I saw no man use you at his pleasure; if I had, my weapon should quickly have been out, I warrant you. I dare draw as soon as another man, if I see occasion in a good quarrel, and the law on my side. | |
| Nurse. Now, afore God, I am so vexed, that every part about me quivers. Scurvy knave! Pray you, sir, a word; and as I told you, my young lady bade me inquire you out; what she bid me say I will keep to myself; but first let me tell ye, if ye should lead her into a fool’s paradise, as they say, it were a very gross kind of behaviour, as they say: for the gentlewoman is young; and, therefore, if you should deal double with her, truly it were an ill thing to be offered to any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing. | 80 |
| Rom. Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress. I protest unto thee,— | |
| Nurse. Good heart! and, i’ faith, I will tell her as much. Lord, Lord! she will be a joyful woman. | |
| Rom. What wilt thou tell her, nurse? thou dost not mark me. | |
| Nurse. I will tell her, sir, that you do protest; which, as I take it, is a gentlemanlike offer. | 84 |
| Rom. Bid her devise | |
| Some means to come to shrift this afternoon; | |
| And there she shall at Friar Laurence’ cell, | |
| Be shriv’d and married. Here is for thy pains. | 88 |
| Nurse. No, truly, sir; not a penny. | |
| Rom. Go to; I say, you shall. | |
| Nurse. This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there. | |
| Rom. And stay, good nurse; behind the abbey wall: | 92 |
| Within this hour my man shall be with thee, | |
| And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair; | |
| Which to the high top-gallant of my joy | |
| Must be my convoy in the secret night. | 96 |
| Farewell! Be trusty, and I’ll quit thy pains. | |
| Farewell! Commend me to thy mistress. | |
| Nurse. Now God in heaven bless thee! Hark you, sir. | |
| Rom. What sayst thou, my dear nurse? | 100 |
| Nurse. Is your man secret? Did you ne’er hear say, | |
| Two may keep counsel, putting one away? | |
| Rom. I warrant thee my man’s as true as steel. | |
| Nurse. Well, sir; my mistress is the sweetest lady—Lord, Lord!—when ’twas a little prating thing,—O! there’s a nobleman in town, one Paris, that would fain lay knife aboard; but she, good soul, had as lief see a toad, a very toad, as see him. I anger her sometimes and tell her that Paris is the properer man; but, I’ll warrant you, when I say so, she looks as pale as any clout in the versal world. Doth not rosemary and Romeo begin both with a letter? | 104 |
| Rom. Ay, nurse: what of that? both with an R. | |
| Nurse. Ah! mocker; that’s the dog’s name. R is for the—No; I know it begins with some other letter: and she had the prettiest sententious of it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you good to hear it. | |
| Rom. Commend me to thy lady. | |
| Nurse. Ay, a thousand times. [Exit ROMEO.] Peter! | 108 |
| Pet. Anon! | |
| Nurse. Before, and apace. [Exeunt. | |
