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Mer. Why; that same pale hard-hearted wench,
Ben. Tybalt the kinsman of old Capulet,
Mer. A challenge, on my life.
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.
351 Mér. Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead ! stabb’d 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 but-shaft; And is he a man to encounter Tybalt?
Ben. Why, what is Tybalt?
Mer. More than prince of cats, I can tell you. 0, he is the courageous captain of compliments : he fights as you sing prick-song, keeps time, distance, and proportion; he rests his minim, 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 im. mortal passado! the punto reverso! the hay !Ben. The what?
366 Mer. The pox of such antick, lisping, affecting fantasticoes; these tuners of accents !--By
a very good blade !a very tall man ! a very good whore !Why, is not this a lament
able thing, grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these Pardonnez-moy's, who stand so much on the new form, that they cannot sit at ease on the old bench? O, their bon's, their bon's!
Ben. Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo.
Mer. Without his roe, like a dried herring :-Q fesh, 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 gipsey; 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 slop. You gave us the counterfeit fairly last night.
386 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.
392 Mer. That's as much as to say—such a case is yours constrains a ma to bow in the hams.
Rom. Meaning-to curt'sy.
cry a match.
Rom. Pink for Aower.
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'il
410 Mer. Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, I am 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 any thing, when thou wast not there for the goose ?
Mer. I will bite thee by the ear for that jest.
Mer. Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most sharp sauce.
420 Rom. And is it not well serv'd in to a sweet goose ?
Mer. O, here's a wit of cheverel, that stretches froin 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 love? now thou art sociable, now art thou ko. meo: 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 hole.
432 Ben. Stop there, stop there.
Mer. Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair.
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.
440 Rom. Here's goodly geer!
Enter Nurse, and PETER.
Mer. Do, good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan's the fairer of the two.
Nurse. God ye good morrow, gentlemen.
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 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
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.
Mer. Yea, is the worst well? very well took, i'faith : wisely, wisely.
Nurse. If you be he, sir, I desire some confidence
Ben. She will indite him to some supper.
470 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.
Romeo, will you come to your father's we'll to dinner thither.