SCENE IV.
The STREET.
Enter Benvolio, and Mercutio.
Mer.
Where the devil should this Romeo be?—
Came he not home to-night?
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,
Hath sent a letter to his father's house.
Mer.
A challenge, on my life.
-- 67 --
Ben.
Romeo will answer it.
Mer.
Any man, that can write, may answer a
letter.
Ben.
Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how
he dares, being dar'd.
Mer.
Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead! stabb'd
with a white wench's black eye,9Q1112 shot thorough the ear
with a love-song; the very pin of his heart cleft with
the blind bow-boy's but-shaft; 9Q11139Q1114 And is he a man to
encounter Tybalt?
Ben.
Why, what is Tybalt?
Mer.
1 note
More than prince of cats, I can tell you.
O, he is the 2 note
courageous captain of compliments:
he fights as you sing prick-song, keeps time, distance3 note
,
and proportion; he rests his minim, one, two, and the
third in your bosom: the very butcher of a silk button4 note
,
a duellist, a duellist; 5 note
a gentleman of the very first
-- 68 --
house;—of the first and second cause: Ah, the immortal
passado! the punto reverso! 6 notethe hay!—
Ben.
The what?
Mer.
The pox of such antick, lisping, affecting
fantasticoes7 note; these new tuners of accents!—By
—a very good blade!—a very tall man!—
a very good whore!—8 noteWhy, is not this a lamentable
thing, grandsire, that we should be thus
afflicted with these strange flies, these fashion-mongers,
9 notethese Pardonnez-moy's, who stand so much on the
new form, that they cannot sit at ease on the old
bench? 1 note
O, their bon's, their bon's!
-- 69 --
Enter Romeo.
Ben.
Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo.
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-rhyme her: Dido, a dowdy; Cleopatra,
a gipsy; Helen and Hero, hildings and harlots;
Thisbé, a grey eye or so, but not to the purpose.—
Signior Romeo, bon jour! there's a French salutation
to your French slop2 note
. You gave us the counterfeit
fairly last night.
Rom.
Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit3 note
did I give you?
Mer.
The slip, sir, the slip; Can you not conceive?
-- 70 --
Rom.
Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was
great; and, in such a case as mine, a man may strain
courtesy.
Mer.
That's as much as to say—such a case as
yours constrains a man to bow in the hams.
Rom.
Meaning—to curt'sy.
Mer.
Thou hast most kindly hit it.
Rom.
A most courteous exposition.
Mer.
Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy.
Rom.
Pink for flower.
Mer.
Right.
Rom.
Why, 3 note
then is my pump well flower'd.
Mer.
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,
solely singular.
Rom.
O single-sol'd 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.
Mer.
Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, I
am done; for thou hast more of the wild-goose in one
-- 71 --
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 any thing,
when thou wast not there for the goose.
Mer.
4 note
I will bite thee by the ear for that jest.
Rom.
Nay, good goose, bite not5 note.
Mer.
Thy wit is 6 note
a very bitter sweeting; it is a
most sharp sauce.
Rom.
And is it not well serv'd in to a sweet goose?
Mer.
O, here's 7 note
a wit of cheverel, that stretches
from an inch narrow to an ell broad!
-- 72 --
Rom.
I stretch it out for that word—broad; which
added to the goose, proves thee far and wide a broad
goose.
Mer.
Why, is not this better now than groaning
for love? now thou art sociable, now art thou Romeo;
now art thou what thou art, by art as well as
by nature: for this driveling love is like a great natural,
that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble
in a hole8 note
.
Ben.
Stop there, stop there.
Mer.
Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against
the hair9 note.
Ben.
Thou would'st else have made thy tale large.
Mer.
O, thou art deceiv'd, 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 geer!
Enter Nurse, and Peter.
Mer.
A sail, a sail, a sail!
Ben.
Two, two; a shirt, and a smock.
-- 73 --
Nurse.
Peter!
Peter.
Anon?
Nurse.
My fan, Peter1 note
.
Mer.
Do, good Peter, to hide her face; for her
fan's the fairer of the two.
Nurse.
God ye good morrow, gentlemen.
Mer.
God ye good den,2 note
fair gentlewoman.
Nurse.
Is it good den?
Mer.
'Tis no less, I tell you; for the bawdy hand3 note
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
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?
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.
-- 74 --
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.
Ben.
She will indite him to some supper.
Mer.
A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! So ho!
Rom.
What hast thou found?
Mer.
4 noteNo hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a
lenten pye, that is something stale and hoar ere it be
spent.
An old hare hoar5 note
,
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.
Rom.
I will follow you.
Mer.
Farewel, ancient lady; farewel, lady, lady,
lady6 note.
[Exeunt Mercutio, and Benvolio.
-- 75 --
Nurse.
I pray you, sir, what saucy merchant7 note was
this, that was so full 8 note
of his ropery?
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 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
9 note
none of his skains-mates:—And thou must stand by
too, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure?
-- 76 --
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 vext, that every
part about me quivers. Scurvy knave!—Pray you,
sir, a word: and as I told you, my young lady bade
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.
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 protest1 note
;
which, as I take it, is a gentleman-like offer.
-- 77 --
Rom.
Bid her devise some means to come to shrift
This afternoon;
And there she shall at friar Laurence' cell
Be shriv'd, and marry'd. Here is for thy pains. 9Q1116
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 abby-wall:
Within this hour my man shall be with thee;
And bring thee cords made 2 notelike a tackled stair,
3 note
Which to the high top-gallant of my joy
Must be my convoy in the secret night.
Farewel!—Be trusty, and I'll quit thy pains.
Farewel!—Commend me to thy mistress.
Nurse.
Now God in heaven bless thee!—Hark you, sir.
Rom.
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?
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,— 9Q1117
O,—there's a nobleman in town, one Paris, that
-- 78 --
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 varsal world.
Doth not rosemary and Romeo begin both with a
letter?
4 note
Rom.
Ay, nurse; What of that? both with an R.
-- 79 --
Nurse.
Ah, mocker! that's the dog's name5 note
. 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.
Rom.
vCommend me to thy lady.
[Exit.
Nurse.
Ay, a thousand times.—Peter!
Pet.
Anon?
Nurse.
Peter, take my fan, and go before.
[Exeunt.
Samuel Johnson [1778], The plays of William Shakspeare. In ten volumes. With the corrections and illustrations of various commentators; to which are added notes by Samuel Johnson and George Steevens. The second edition, Revised and Augmented (Printed for C. Bathurst [and] W. Strahan [etc.], London) [word count] [S10901].
