 | Romeo and Juliet |  |
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.
Tibalt, the kinsman to old Capulet, hath sent
a letter to his father's house.
Mer.
A challenge, on my life.
Ben.
Romeo will answer it.
Mer.
Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead! stabb'd
with a white wench's black eye, run through 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
Tibalt?
Ben.
Why, what is Tibalt?
Mer.
Oh he's the courageous captain of compliments;
he fights as you sing prick-song, keeps time, distance, and
proportion; rests his minum, 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
punto reverso, the hay—
Ben.
The what?
Mer.
The pox of such antick lisping affected phantasies,
these new tuners of accents:—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-moy's?
Ben.
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 Petarch flowed in: Laura to his lady was but a
kitchen-wench; marry she had a better love to berime
her: Dido a dowdy, Cleopatra a gipsie, Helen and Hero
hildings and harlots: Thisbe a gray eye or so, but not to
the purpose.
Signior Romeo, bonjour, there's a French salutation for you.
Rom.
Good morrow to you both.
Mer.
You gave us the counterfeit fairly last night.
Rom.
What counterfeit did I give you?
Mer.
The slip, Sir, the slip: can you not conceive?
Rom.
Pardon, Mercutio, my business was great, and in
such a case as mine, a man may strain curtesy.
Enter Nurse and her Man.
Rom.
A sayle! a sayle.
Mer.
Two, two, a shirt and a smock.
Nurse.
Peter.
Pet.
Anon,
Nurse.
My fan, Peter.
Mer.
Do, good Peter, to hide her face.
Nurse.
God ye good-morrow, gentlemen.
Mer.
God ye good den, fair gentlewoman.
Nurse.
Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I
may find young Romeo?
Rom.
I am the youngest of that name, for fault of a
worse.
Nurse.
You say well.
If you be he, sir,
I desire some confidence with you.
Ben:
She will indite him to supper presently.
A bawd, a bawd, a bawd: So ho.
Rom.
What hast thou found?
Mar.
No hare, Sir, but a bawd. Romeo, will you
come to your father's we'll to dinner thither.
Rom.
I will follow you.
Mar.
Farewel, ancient lady.
[Exeunt Mercutio, Benvolio.
Nurse.
I pray you, Sir, what saucy merchant was
this that was so full of his roguery?
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' he 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; and thou must stand
by too, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure.
[To her man.
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 bid me
enquire you out. What she bid me say, I will keep to
myself: but first let me tell ye, if ye should lead her
into 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.
Rom.
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 protest; which,
as I take it, is a gentleman-like offer.
Rom.
Bid her device some means to come to shrift this
afternoon.
Be shriv'd and married; here's for thy pains.
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 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.
Farewel, be trusty, and I'll quit thy pains.
Nurse.
Well, Sir, my mistress is the sweetest lady;
lord, lord, when t'was a little prating thing—O,
there is a noble man 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.
Rom.
Commend me to my lady—
[Exit Romeo.
Nurse.
A thousand times. Peter?
Pet.
Anon.
Nurse.
Take my fan, and go before.
[Exeunt.
| Romeo and Juliet | |