ACT II. | |
Scene IV. A Street. | |
| [Enter Benvolio and Mercutio.] |
Mercutio. | |
| Where the devil should this Romeo be?-- |
| Came he not home to-night? |
Benvolio. | |
| Not to his father's; I spoke with his man. |
Mercutio. | |
| Ah, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline, |
| Torments him so that he will sure run mad. |
Benvolio. | |
| Tybalt, the kinsman to old Capulet, |
| Hath sent a letter to his father's house. |
Mercutio. | |
| A challenge, on my life. |
Benvolio. | |
| Romeo will answer it. |
Mercutio. | |
| Any man that can write may answer a letter. |
Benvolio. | |
| Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he |
| dares, being dared. |
Mercutio. | |
| 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? |
Benvolio. | |
| Why, what is Tybalt? |
Mercutio. | |
| More than prince of cats, I can tell you. O, he's 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.-- |
Benvolio. | |
| The what? |
Mercutio. | |
| The pox of such antic, 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-moi's, who stand so |
| much on the new form that they cannot sit at ease on the old |
| bench? O, their bons, their bons! |
Benvolio. | |
| Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo! |
Mercutio. | |
| 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-rhyme her; Dido, a dowdy; Cleopatra, a gypsy; |
| Helen and Hero, hildings and harlots; Thisbe, a gray eye or so, |
| but not to the purpose,-- |
| [Enter Romeo.] |
| Signior Romeo, bon jour! there's a French salutation to your |
| French slop. You gave us the counterfeit fairly last night. |
Romeo. | |
| Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you? |
Mercutio. | |
| The slip, sir, the slip; can you not conceive? |
Romeo. | |
| Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was great; and in such a |
| case as mine a man may strain courtesy. |
Mercutio. | |
| That's as much as to say, such a case as yours constrains a |
| man to bow in the hams. |
Romeo. | |
| Meaning, to court'sy. |
Mercutio. | |
| Thou hast most kindly hit it. |
Romeo. | |
| A most courteous exposition. |
Mercutio. | |
| Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy. |
Romeo. | |
| Pink for flower. |
Mercutio. | |
| Right. |
Romeo. | |
| Why, then is my pump well-flowered. |
Mercutio. | |
| Well said: follow me this jest now till thou hast worn out |
| thy pump;that, when the single sole of it is worn, the jest may |
| remain, after the wearing, sole singular. |
Romeo. | |
| O single-soled jest, solely singular for the singleness! |
Mercutio. | |
| Come between us, good Benvolio; my wits faint. |
Romeo. | |
| Swits and spurs, swits and spurs; or I'll cry a match. |
Mercutio. | |
| 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? |
Romeo. | |
| Thou wast never with me for anything when thou wast not |
| there for the goose. |
Mercutio. | |
| I will bite thee by the ear for that jest. |
Romeo. | |
| Nay, good goose, bite not. |
Mercutio. | |
| Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most sharp |
| sauce. |
Romeo. | |
| And is it not, then, well served in to a sweet goose? |
Mercutio. | |
| O, here's a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an inch |
| narrow to an ell broad! |
Romeo. | |
| I stretch it out for that word broad: which added to the |
| goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose. |
Mercutio. | |
| Why, is not this better now than groaning for love? now art |
| thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; not 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. |
Benvolio. | |
| Stop there, stop there. |
Mercutio. | |
| Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair. |
Benvolio. | |
| Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large. |
Mercutio. | |
| 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. |
Romeo. | |
| Here's goodly gear! |
| [Enter Nurse and Peter.] |
Mercutio. | |
| A sail, a sail, a sail! |
Benvolio. | |
| Two, two; a shirt and a smock. |
Nurse. | |
| Peter! |
Peter. | |
| Anon. |
Nurse. | |
| My fan, Peter. |
Mercutio. | |
| Good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan's the fairer face. |
Nurse. | |
| God ye good morrow, gentlemen. |
Mercutio. | |
| God ye good-den, fair gentlewoman. |
Nurse. | |
| Is it good-den? |
Mercutio. | |
| 'Tis no less, I tell ye; for the bawdy hand of the dial is |
| now upon the prick of noon. |
Nurse. | |
| Out upon you! what a man are you! |
Romeo. | |
| 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? |
Romeo. | |
| 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. |
Mercutio. | |
| Yea, is the worst well? very well took, i' faith; wisely, |
| wisely. |
Nurse. | |
| If you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with you. |
Benvolio. | |
| She will indite him to some supper. |
Mercutio. | |
| A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! So ho! |
Romeo. | |
| What hast thou found? |
Mercutio. | |
| 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. |
| Romeo, will you come to your father's? we'll to dinner thither. |
Romeo. | |
| I will follow you. |
Mercutio. | |
| Farewell, ancient lady; farewell,-- |
| [singing] lady, lady, lady. |
| [Exeunt Mercutio, and Benvolio.] |
Nurse. | |
| Marry, farewell!--I pray you, sir, what saucy merchant was |
| this that was so full of his ropery? |
Romeo. | |
| 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 skains-mates.--And thou must stand |
| by too, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure! |
| Peter. 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 bid me enquire you out; what she bade 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. |
Romeo. | |
| 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. |
Romeo. | |
| 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. |
Romeo. | |
| Bid her devise some means to come to shrift |
| This afternoon; |
| And there she shall at Friar Lawrence' cell |
| Be shriv'd and married. Here is for thy pains. |
Nurse. | |
| No, truly, sir; not a penny. |
Romeo. | |
| Go to; I say you shall. |
Nurse. | |
| This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there. |
Romeo. | |
| And stay, good nurse, behind the abbey-wall: |
| 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. |
| 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. |
Romeo. | |
| What say'st thou, my dear nurse? |
Nurse. | |
| Is your man secret? Did you ne'er hear say, |
| Two may keep counsel, putting one away? |
Romeo. | |
| 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? |
Romeo. | |
| Ay, nurse; what of that? both with an R. |
Nurse. | |
| Ah, mocker! that's the dog's name. R is for the dog: no; I |
| know it begins with some other letter:--and she hath the |
| prettiest sententious of it, of you and rosemary, that it would |
| do you good to hear it. |
Romeo. | |
| Commend me to thy lady. |
Nurse. | |
| Ay, a thousand times. [Exit Romeo.]--Peter! |
Peter. | |
| Anon? |
Nurse. | |
| Peter, take my fan, and go before. |
| [Exeunt.] |