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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. Why, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline,

Torments him so that he will sure run mad.

Benvolio. Tybalt, the kinsman of old Capulet,

Hath sent a letter to his father's house.

Mercutio. A challenge, on my life.

Benvolio. Romeo will answer it.

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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 thorough

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?

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Mercutio. 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!

Benvolio. The what?

Mercutio. The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting

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fantasticoes, these new tuners of accents! 'By Jesu,

a very good blade! a very tall man!'—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

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

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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 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.

Romeo. Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit

did I give you?

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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 curtsy.

Mercutio. Thou hast most kindly hit it.

Romeo. A most courteous exposition.

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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-souled jest, solely singular for

the singleness!

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Mercutio. Come between us, good Benvolio; my

wits fail.

Romeo. Switch and spurs, switch 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 any thing

when thou was not there for the goose.

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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 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

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a broad goose.

Mercutio. 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—

Benvolio. Stop there, stop there.

Romeo. Here's goodly gear!

Enter Nurse and Peter

Mercutio. A sail, a sail!

Benvolio. Two, two; a shirt and a smock.

100Nurse. Peter!

Peter. Anon!

Nurse. My fan, Peter.

Mercutio. Good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan's the fairer of the two.

Nurse. God ye good morrow, gentlemen.

Mercutio. God ye good den, fair gentlewoman.

Nurse. Is it good den?

Mercutio. 'Tis no less, I tell you, for the hand of the dial is now upon the prick of noon.

110Nurse. 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.

120Nurse. 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. 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 130spent.—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 140he will stand to in a month.

Nurse. An a' speak any thing 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 150warrant 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 bade me say, I will keep to myself; but first let me tell ye, if ye should lead her in a fool's paradise, as they say, it were a very gross kind of behaviour, as they say; for the 160gentlewoman 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, 170which, 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 Laurence' 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,

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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.

190Nurse. Well, sir; my mistress is the sweetest lady—Lord, Lord! when 'twas a little prating thing—O, there is a nobleman in town, one Paris, that would fain lay knife aboard; but she, good soul, had as lieve 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.

200Nurse. Ah, mocker! that's the dog's name; R is for the—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. Before, and apace. [Exeunt.