Mercutio.
Mer.
Why, where the devil should this Romeo be!—
Came he not home to night?
Ben.
Not to his father's;
I spoke note with his man.
Mer.
Ay, that note same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline,
Torments him so, that he will sure run mad.
Ben.
Tybalt, the kinsman of old note Capulet,
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.
Ben.
Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he
dares, being dared.
Mer.
Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead! stab'd
with a white wench's black eye, shot thorough note the ear
with a love-song, the very pin of his heart cleft with
the blind bow-boy's but-shaft; And is he a man to encounter
Tybalt?
Ben.
Why note, what is Tybalt?
Mer.
More than prince of cats,14Q1398 I can tell you note. O, he
is note the courageous captain of compliments: he fights as
you sing prick-song, keeps time, distance, and proportion;
he rests his minum, one note, two, and the third in your
-- 41 --
bosom: the very note butcher of a silk button, a duelist, a
duelist; a gentleman of the very first house of the first
and second cause: Ah, the immortal passado! the punto
reverso! the—hay!
Ben.
The what?
Mer.
The pox of such antick note, lisping, affecting note fantasticoes; note
these new tuners of accents note!—By note 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—Pardon-me's; note who stand so much on the
new form, that they cannot note sit at ease on the old bench?
O their bones, their bones! note
Enter Romeo, at a Distance.
Ben.
Here comes Romeo note, here comes Romeo.
Mer.
Without his roe, like a dry'd herring:—O flesh,
flesh, how art thou fishify'd!—Now is he for the numbers
that Petrarch flow'd in; Laura, to his lady, was a
kitchin-wench;—marry, she had a better love to berime
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 us14Q1399 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 note 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.
-- 42 --
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 note, then is my pump well flower'd.
Mer.
Well said: follow note 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 note.
Rom.
O single-sol'd jest, solely singular for the singleness!
Mer.
Come between us, good Benvolio; my wit note faints note.
Rom.
Switch and spurs, switch and spurs; for I note cry a
match.
Mer.
Nay, if thy wits note run the wild-goose chase, I
have done note; 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 note with me for any thing, when
thou wast not there for the goose.
Mer.
I will bite thee by the ear for that jest.
Rom.
Nay, good goose, bite not.
Mer.
Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most
sharp sauce.
Rom.
And is it not well note serv'd 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 a broad
goose.
Mer.
Why, is not this better now than groaning for
-- 43 --
love? now art thou 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 note his bauble in a hole.
Ben.
Stop there, stop there.
Mer.
Thou desirest note me to stop in my tale against the
hair.
Ben.
Thou would'st else have made thy tale large.
Mer.
O, thou art deceived, I would have made it
short: for I note was come to the whole depth of my tale;
and meant, indeed, to occupy the argument no longer.
Rom.
Here's goodly geer! note
Enter Nurse, and her Man.
Mer.
A sail, a sail, a sail! note14Q1400
Ben.
Two, two; note a shirt, and a smock.
Nur.
Peter!
Man.
Anon?
Nur.
My fan, Peter.
Mer.
Do, good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan's
the fairer note of the two.
Nur.
God ye good morrow, gentlemen.
Mer.
God ye good den, fair gentlewoman note.
Nur.
Is it note good den?
Mer.
'Tis no less, I tell you; note for the bawdy hand of
the dial is now upon the prick of noon.
Nur.
Out upon you! what a man are you?
Rom.
One, gentlewoman, that God hath made himself
to mar.
Nur.
By my troth, it is well said;—For himself to
mar, quoth 'a?—Gentlemen note, can any of you tell me
where I may find the young Romeo?
Rom.
I can tell you; but young Romeo will be older
-- 44 --
when you have found him, than he was when you
sought him: I am the youngest of that name, for fault
of a worse.
Nur.
You say well.
Mer.
Yea, is the worst well? very well took, i'faith;
wisely, wisely.
Nur.
If you note be he, sir, I desire some confidence note with
you.
[taking him aside.
Ben.
She will indite note him to supper note.
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 pye,
that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent:—
[singing.
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.
Rom.
I will follow you.
Mer.
Farewel, ancient lady; note farewel, lady, lady, lady.
[Exeunt Mer. and Ben.
Nur.
I pray you, sir, what saucy merchant was this,
that was so full of his ropery? note
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.
Nur.
An 'a speak any note thing against me, I'll take him
down, an 'a were lustier than he is, and twenty such
Jacks; and if I can not, I'll find those that shall. Scurvy
-- 45 --
knave! I am none of his flirt-gills note; I am none of his note
skaines-mates:—And thou must stand by too, and suffer
every knave to use me at his pleasure.
Man.
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.
Nur.
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 bad note me enquire you
out; what she bad note me say, I will keep to myself: But
first let me tell ye, if ye should lead her into a note 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 offer'd to any gentlewoman, note and
very weak dealing.
Rom.
Nurse note, commend me to thy lady and mistress.
I protest unto thee,—
Nur.
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.
Nur.
I will tell her, sir,—that you do protest; which,
as I take it, is a note gentleman-like offer.
Rom.
Bid her devise some means to come to shrift
This afternoon;
And there she shall at friar Lawrence' cell
Be shriv'd, and marry'd. Here &dagger2; is for thy pains.
Nur.
No, truly, sir; not a penny.
Rom.
Go to; I say, you shall.
Nur.
This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there.
Rom.
And stay, good note nurse, behind the abbey wall:
-- 46 --
Within this hour my man shall be with thee;
And bring thee cords made like a tackl'd note stair,
Which to the high top-gallant of my joy
Must be my convoy in note the secret night.
Farewel!—Be trusty, and I'll quite note thy pains;
Farewel!—Commend me to thy mistress.
Nur.
Now God in heaven bless thee!—Hark you, sir.
[calling him back.
Rom.
What say'st thou, my dear nurse?
Nur.
Is your man secret? Did you ne'er hear say—
Two may keep counsel, putting one away?
Rom.
I warrant thee; my man's note as true as steel.
Nur.
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 note a toad, a very toad,
As see him: I do anger note 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 i' the 'versal world.
Doth not rosemary and Romeo begin
Both with a letter?
Rom.
Ay, nurse; What of that?
Both with an R.
Nur.
Ah, mocker! that's the dog's note name;
R for thee? no; note I know, it begins with
Some other letter: and she hath the prettiest
Sententious of it, of you and rosemary,
'Twould do you good to hear it.
Rom.
Commend me to thy lady.
[Exit.
Nur.
Ay, a thousand times.—Peter!
-- 47 --
Man.
Anon?
Nur.
Before;
And walk apace.
[Exeunt.
Edward Capell [1767], Mr William Shakespeare his comedies, histories, and tragedies, set out by himself in quarto, or by the Players his Fellows in folio, and now faithfully republish'd from those Editions in ten Volumes octavo; with an introduction: Whereunto will be added, in some other Volumes, notes, critical and explanatory, and a Body of Various Readings entire (Printed by Dryden Leach, for J. and R. Tonson [etc.], London) [word count] [S10601].
