Tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep,
Then dreams he of another benefice:
Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,
And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,
Of healths five fathom deep: and then anon
Drums in his ear; at which he starts, and wakes;
And, being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two,
And sleeps again. This is that very Mab,
That plats the manes of horses in the night:
And bakes the elf-locks in foul sluttish hairs,
Which, once untangled, much misfortune bodes.
This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,
That presses them, and learns them first to bear,
Making them women of good carriage.
This, this is she-
Rom.
Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace;
Thou talk'st of nothing.
Mer.
True, I talk of dreams;
Which are the children of an idle brain,
Begot of nothing but vain fantasy;
Which is as thin of substance as the air;
And more inconstant than the wind, who woos
Even now the frozen bosom of the north,
And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence,
Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.
Ben. This wind, you talk of, blows us from
ourselves;
Supper is done, and we shall come too late.
Rom. I fear, too early--for my mind misgives, Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars, Shall bitterly begin his fearful date With this night's revels: and expire the term Of a despised life, clos'd in my breast, By some vile forfeit of untimely death: But He, that hath the steerage of my course, Direct my sail!-On, lusty gentlemen. Ben. Strike, drum.
SCENE V. A Hall in Capulet's House.
Musicians waiting. Enter Servants.
1 Serv. Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away? he shift a trencher! he scrape a trencher!
2 Serv. When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's hands, and they unwashed too, 'tis a foul thing.
More lights, ye knaves: and turn the tables up,
And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot.
Ah, sirrah, this unlook'd-for sport comes well.
Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet;
For you and I are past our dancing days:
How long is't now, since last yourself and I
Were in a mask?
2 Cap.
1 Cap. What, man! 'tis not so much, 'tis not 'Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio, [so much : Come pentecost as quickly as it will, Some five and twenty years; and then we mask'd.
2 Cap. 'Tis more, 'tis more: his son is elder, His son is thirty. [sir:
1 Cap. Will you tell me that? His son was but a ward two years ago. Rom. What lady's that which doth enrich the Of yonder knight?
Serv. I know not, sir. Rom. O, she doth teach the torches to burn Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear: Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! So shows a snowy dove drooping with crows, As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows. [stand, The measure done, I'll watch her place of And, touching hers, make happy my rude hand. Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.
Tyb. This, by his voice, should be a Montague:[slave Fetch me my rapier, boy:--What! dares the Come hither, cover'd with an antick face, To fleer and scorn at our solemnity: Now, by the stock and honour of my kin, To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.
1 Cap. Why, how now, kinsman? wherefore storm you so?
Tyb. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe;
A villain, that is hither come in spite,
To scorn at our solemnity this night.
1 Cap. Young Romeo is't?
Tyb.
'Tis he, that villain Romeo, 1 Cap. Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone, He bears him like a portly gentleman: And, to say truth, Verona brags of him, 1 Serv. Away with the joint-stools, remove To be a virtuous and well govern'd youth: the court cupboard, look to the plate-good I would not for the wealth of all this town, thou, save me a piece of marchpane; and, as Here in my house, do him disparagement: thou lovest me, let the porter let in Susan Grind-Therefore be patient, take no note of him, stone, and Neil.-Antony! and Potpan! 2 Serv. Ay, boy; ready.
1 Serv. You are looked for, and called for, asked for, and sought for, in the great chamber. 2 Serv. We cannot be here, and there too. Cheerly, boys; be brisk a while, and the longer liver take all. [They retire behind, Enter CAPULET, &c. with the Guests and the Maskers. Cap. Gentlemen, welcome! ladies, that have their toes [you. Unplagu'd with corns, will have a bout with Ah ah, my mistresses! which of you all Will now deny to dance? she that makes dainty, she, [now? I'll swear, hath corns; Am I come near you You are welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the That I have worn a visor; and could tell [day, A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear, Such as would please;-'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis [cians play.
It is my will; the which if thou respect,
Show a fair presence, and put off these frowns,
An ill beseeming semblance for a feast.
Tyb. It fits, when such a villain is a guest;
I'll not endure him.
1 Cap.
He shall be endured;
What,goodman boy?-I say, he shall-Go to:-
Am I the master here, or you? go to.
You'll not endure him!-God shall mend my
soul!-
You'll make a mutiny among my guests!
You will set cock-a-hoop! you'll be the man!
Tyb. Why, uncle, 'tis a shame.
1 Cap.
Go to, go to.
You are a saucy boy-Is't so, indeed?
This trick may chance to scath you:-I know
You must contrary me! marry, 'tis timeWell said, my hearts:-you are a princox; goBe quiet, or-More light, more light, for
You are welcome, gentlemen!-Come, musi- I'll make you quiet; What!--Cheerly,my hearts. A hall! a hall give room, and foot it, girls. Tyb. Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting
Musick plays, and they dance.
Makes my flesh tremble in their different greet-
I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall, [ing,
Now seeming sweet, convert to bitter gall.
Rom. If I profane with my unworthy hand [To JULIET. This holy shrine, the gentle fine is thisMy lips, to blushing pilgrims' ready stand To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. Jul. Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,
Which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,
And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.
Rom. Have not saints lips, and holy palmers
too?
(prayer.
Jul. Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in
Rom. O then, dear saint, let lips do what
hands do;
That fair, which love groan'd for, and would die,
With tender Juliet match'd is now not fair.
Now Romeo is belov'd, and loves again,
Alike bewitched by the charm of looks;
But to his foe suppos'd he must complain,
And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful
hooks:
Being held a foe, he may not have access
To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear; And she as much in love, her means much less To meet her new-beloved any where:
But passion lends them power, time means to meet,
Temp'ring extremities with extreme sweet.
[spair. SCENE I. An open Place, adjoining Capulet's
They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to de-
Jul. Saints do not move, though grant for
prayers' sake.
[I take.
Rom. Then move not, while my prayer's effect
Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purg'd..
[Kissing her.
Jul. Then have my lips the sin that I have
took.
[urg'd!
Rom. Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly
Give me my sin again.
Jul.
You kiss by the book.
Nurse. Madam, your mother craves a word
Rom. What is her mother? [with you.
Nurse.
Marry, bachelor!
Her mother is the lady of the house,
And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous:
I nurs'd her daughter, that you talk'd withal:
I tell you,-he, that can lay hold of her,
Shall have the chinks.
Rom.
Is she a Capulet?
O dear account! my life is my foe's debt.
Ben. Away, begone; the sport is at the best.
Rom. Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest.
1 Cap. Nay,gentlemen,prepare not to be gone;
We have a trifling foolish banquet towards.
Is it e'en so? Why, then I thank you all;
I thank you, honest gentlemen; good night:
More torches here!-Come on, then let's to bed.
Ah, sirrah [To2 Cap.], by my fay, it waxes late;
I'll to my rest.
[Exeunt all but JULIET and Nurse.
Jul. Come hither, nurse: What is yon gentle-
Nurse. The son and heir of old Tiberio. (man?
Jul. What's he, that now is going out of door?
Nurse. Marry, that, I think, be young Petru-
chio.
[not dance?
Jul. What's he, that follows there, that would
Nurse. I know not.
Jul. Go, ask his name: if he be married,
My grave is like to be my wedding bed.
Nurse. His name is Romeo, and a Montague;
The only son of your great enemy.
Jul. My only love sprung from my only hate!
Too early seen unknown, and known too late!
Prodigious birth of love it is to me,
That I must love a loathed enemy.
Nurse. What's this? what's this?
Jul.
A rhyme I learn'd even now
Of one I dane'd withal. [One calls within, Juliet.
Nurse
Anon, anon:-
Come, let's away; the strangers all are gone.
Now old desire doth in his deathbed lie,
And young affection gapes to be his heir;
Rom. Can I go forward, when my heart is here?
Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out.
[He climbs the Wall, and leaps down within it.
Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO.
Ben. Romeo! my cousin Romeo!
He is wise;
And, on my life, hath stolen him home to bed.
Ben. He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard
Call, good Mercutio.
[wall:
Mer.
Nay, I'll conjure too.-
Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover!
Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh,
Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied;
Cry but-Ah me! couple but-love and
dove;
Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word,
One nickname for her purblind son and heir,
Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim,
When king Cophetua lov'd the beggar-maid.-
He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not;
The ape is dead, and I must conjure him.-
I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes,
By her high forehead, and her scarlet lip,
By her fine foot,straight leg,and quivering thigh,
And the demesnes that there adjacent lie,
That in thy likeness thou appear to us.
Ben. An if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him.
Mer. This cannot anger him: 'twould anger
To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle
Of some strange nature, letting it there stand
Till she had laid it, and conjur'd it down;
That were some spite: my invocation
Is fair and honest, and, in his mistress' name,
I conjure only but to raise up him. [trees,
Ben. Come, he hath hid himself among those
To be consorted with the humorous night:
Blind is his love, and best befits the dark.
Mer. If love be blind,love cannot hit the mark.
Now will he sit under a medlar tree,
And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit,
As maids call medlars,when they laugh alone.—
Romeo, good night;-I'll to my truckle-bed;
This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep:
Come, shall we go?
Go, then; for 'tis in vain To seek him here, that means not to be found. [Exeunt.
SCENE II. Capulet's Garden.
Rom. He jests at scars, that never felt a wound.
JULIET appears above, at a Window,
But, soft! what light throngh youder window 'For stony limits cannot hold love out:
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun!- [breaks?
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief,
That thou her maid art far more fair than she;
Be not her maid, since she is envious:
Her vestal livery is but sick and green,
And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.-
It is my lady; O, it is my love:
O, that she knew she were!-
She speaks, yet she says nothing; What of that?
Her eye discourses, I will answer it.
I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks:
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
Having some business, do entreat her eyes
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would shame those
As daylight doth a lamp; her eye in heaven
Would through the airy region stream so bright,
That birds would sing, and think it were not
night.
See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
O, that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek!
Jul.
Rom.
She speaks:-
O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art
As glorious to this sight, being o'er my head,
As is a winged messenger of heaven
Unto the white-upturned wond'ring eyes
Of mortals, that fall back to gaze on him,
When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds,
And sails upon the bosom of the air. [Romeo?
Jul. O, Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou
Deny thy father, and refuse thy name:
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I'll no longer be a Capulet.
Rom.Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?
[Aside.
Jul. 'Tis but thy name, that is my enemy;-
Thou art thyself though, not a Montague.
What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
What's in a name? that which we call a rose,
By any other name would smell as sweet;
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes,
Without that title:-Romeo, doff thy name:
And for that name, which is no part of thee,
Take all myself.
Rom.
I take thee at thy word:
Call me but love, and I'll be new baptiz'd;
Henceforth I never will be Romeo.
Jul. What man art thou, that, thus bescreen'd
So stumblest on my counsel ?
[in night,
Rom.
By a name
I know not how to tell thee who I am:
My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,
Because it is an enemy to thee;
Had I it written, I would tear the word.
Jul. My ears have not yet drunk a hundred
words
Of that tougue's utterance, yet I know the sound;
Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?
Rom. Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike.
Jul. How cam'st thou hither, tell me? and
wherefore?
The orchard walls are high, and hard to climb;
And the place death, considering who thou art,
If any of my kinsmen find thee here.
Rom. With love's light wings did I o'er-perch
these walls;
And what love can do, that dares love attempt;
Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me.
Jul. If they do see thee, they will murder thee.
Rom. Alack! there lies more peril in thine eye,
Than twenty of their swords; look thou but
And I am proof against their enmity. [sweet,
Jul. I would not for the world they saw thee
[their sight;
Rom. I have night's cloak to hide me from
And, but thou love me, let them find me here:
My life were better ended by their hate,
Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.
Jul, By whose direction found'st thou out this
place?
[inquire:
Rom. By love, who first did prompt me to
He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes.
I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far
As that vast shore wash'd with the furthest sea,
I would adventure for such merchandise.
Jul. Thou know'st, the mask of night is on
Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek,
For that which thou hast heard me speak to-
night.
Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny
What I have spoke; But farewell compliment!
Dost thou love me? I know, thou wilt say-Ay;
And I will take thy word: yet, if thou swear'st,
Thou may'st prove false; at lovers' perjuries,
They say, Jove laughs. O, gentle Romeo,
If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully:-
Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won,
I'll frown, and be perverse, and say thee nay,
So thou wilt woo: but, else, not for the world.
In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond; [light:
And therefore thou may'st think my haviour
But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true
Than those that have more cunningto be strange.
I should have been more strange, I must confess,
But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware,
My true love's passion: therefore pardon me;
And not impute this yielding to light love,
Which the dark night hath so discovered.
Rom. Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear,
That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops,--
Jul. O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant
That monthly changes in her circled orb,
Lest that thy love prove likewise variable
Rom. What shall I swear by ?
Jul.
Do not swear at all;
Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self,
Which is the god of my idolatry,
And I'll believe thee.
Rom.
If my heart's dear love-
Jul. Well,do not swear: although I joy in thee,
I have no joy of this contract to-night:
It is too rash, too unadvis'd, too sudden;
Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be,
Ere one can say Itlightens. Sweet, good night!
This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,
May prove a beauteous flower when next we
And yet I wish but for the thing I have:
My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
The more I have, for both are infinite.
[Nurse calls within.
I hear some noise within; Dear love, adieu!
Anon, good nurse!-Sweet Montague, be true.
Stay, but a little, I will come again. [Exit.
Rom. O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard,
Being in night, all this is but a dream,
Too flattering-sweet to be substantial."
Jul. Three words, dear Romeo, and good night,
indeed.
If that thy bent of love be honourable, [row,
Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-mor-
By one that I'll procure to come to thee,
Where, and what time, thou wilt perform the
And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay, frite;
And follow thee my lord throughout the world:
Nurse. [Within.] Madam.
Jul. I come anon:-But if thou mean'st not
I do beseech thee,-
[well,
Nurse. [Within.] Madam.
Jul.
By and by, I come:-
So cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief:
To-morrow will I send.
Now, ere the sun advance his burning eye,
The day to cheer, and night's dank dew to dry,
I must fill up this osier cage of ours,
With baleful weeds,and precious-juiced flowers.
The earth, that's nature's mother, is her tomb;
What is her burying grave, that is her womb:
And from her womb children of divers kind
We sucking on her natural bosom find;
Many for many virtues excellent,
None but for some, and yet all different.
O, mickle is the powerful grace, that lies
In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities:
For nought so vile that on the earth doth live,
But to the earth some special good doth give;
Nor aught so good, but, strain'd from that fair
Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse:
Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied;
And vice sometime's by action dignified.
Jul. A thousand times good night! [Exit. Within the infant rind of this small flower Rom. A thousand times the worse,to want thy Poison hath residence, and med'cine power: light.[books; For this, being smelt, with that part cheers Love goes toward love, as school-boys from their each part; But love from love, toward school with heavy Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart. looks. [Retiring slowly. Two such opposed foes encamp them still Re-enter JULIET, above. In man as well as herbs, grace, and rude will; Jul. Hist! Romeo, hist!-0, for a falconer's And, where the worser is predominant, To lure this tassel-gentle back again! [voice, Full soon the canker death eats up that plant. Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud; Enter ROMEO. Else would I tear the cave where echo lies, And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine With repetition of my Romeo's name.
Rom. It is my soul, that calls upon my name;
How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night,
Like softest musick to attending ears!
Jul. Romeo!
Rom. Good morrow, father!
Fri.
Benedicite!
What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?-
Young son, it argues a distemper'd head,
So soon to bid good morrow to thy bed:
Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye,
And where care lodges, sleep will never lie;
But where unbruised youth with unstuff'd brain
At what o'clock to-morrow Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth
Therefore thy earliness doth me assure,
Thou art uprous'd by some distemp'rature;
Or if not so, then here I hit it right-
Our Romeo hath not been in bed to-night.
Rom. That last is true, the sweeter rest was
mine.
At the hour of nine.
Jul. I will not fail; 'tis twenty years till then.
I have forgot why I did call thee back.
Rom. Let me stand here till thou remember it.
Jul. I shall forget, to have thee still stand there,
Rememb'ring how I love thy company.
Rom. And I'll still stay, to have thee stillforget,
Forgetting any other home but this. [gone;
Jul. 'Tis almost morning, I would have thee
And yet no further than a wanton's bird;
Who lets it hop a little from her hand,
Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,
And with a silk thread plucks it back again,
So loving-jealous of his liberty.
Rom. I would, I were thy bird.
Jul.
Sweet, so would I;
Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.
Good night, good night! parting is such sweet
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Fri. God pardon sin! wast thou with Rosaline? Rom. With Rosaline, my ghostly father? no; I have forgot that name, and that name's woe. Fri. That's my good son: But where hast thou
Rom. I'll tell thee, ere thou ask it me again.
I have been feasting with mine enemy;
Where on a sudden, one hath wounded me,
That's by me wounded; both our remedies
Within thy help and holy physick lies:
I bear no hatred, blessed man; for, lo,
My intercession likewise steads my foe. [drift;
Fri. Be plain, good son, and homely in thy
Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift.
Rom. Then plainly know, my heart's dear love
On the fair daughter of rich Capulet: [is set
As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine:
And all combin'd,save what thou must combine
By holy marriage: When, and where, and how,
We met, we woo'd, and made exchange of vow,
I'll tell thee as we pass; but this I pray,
That thou consent to marry us this day. [here! form, that they cannot sit at ease on the old Fri. Holy Saint Francis! what a change is bench? O, their bons, their bons!
Is Rosaline, whom thou didst love so dear,
So soon forsaken? Young men's love then lies
Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.
Jesu Maria! what a deal of brine
Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline!
How much salt water thrown away in waste,
To season love, that of it doth not taste!
The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears,
Thy old groans ring yet in my ancient ears;
Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit
Of an old tear that is not wash'd off yet:
If e'er thou wast thyself, and these woes thine,
Thon and these woes were all for Rosaline;
And art thou chang'd? pronounce this sentence
then-
[men.
Women may fall, when there's no strength in
Rom. Thou chid'st me oft for loving Rosaline.
Fri. For doting, not for loving, pupil mine,
Rom. And bad'st me bury love.
Fri.
Not in a grave,
To lay one in, another out to have.
Rom. I pray thee, chide not: she whom I
love now,
Doth grace for grace, and love for love allow; The other did not so.
Fri. Thy love did read by rote; and could not spell. But come, young waverer, come go with me, In one respect I'll thy assistant be; For this alliance may so happy prove, To turn your household's rancour to pure love. Rom. O, let us hence; I stand on sudden haste. Fri. Wisely, and slow; they stumble, that run fast. [Exeunt.
Mer. Any man, that can write, may answer Ben. Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he dares, being dared.
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 iady, was but a kitchen wench ;Dido, a dowdy: Cleopatra, a gipsy; Helen and marry, she had a better love to be-rhyme her; Hero, hildings and harlots; Thisbe, a gray eye or so, but not to the purpose.-Signior Romeo, French slop. You gave us the counterfeit fairly bon jour; there's a French salutation to your last night,
Rom. Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you?
[ceive? Mer. The slip, sir, the slip. Can you not conRom. 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 court'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.
Rom. Why, then is my pump well flowered. 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-soled jest, solely singular for the singleness. [wits fail. Mer. Come between us, good Benvolio; my Rom. Switch and spurs, switch and spurs; or I'll cry a match.
Mer. Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose wild-goose in one of thy wits, than, I am sure, chase, I have done; for thou hast more of the I have in my whole five: Was I with you there for the goose?
Rom. Thou wast never with me for anything,
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
Rom. And is it not well served in to a sweet from an inch narrow to an ell broad! Mer. O, here's a wit of cheveril, that stretches
Mer. Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead! stabbed with a white wench's black eye; shot through the ear with a love-song; the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow-boy's butt-wide a broad goose.
Rom. I stretch it out for that word-broad: which added to the goose, proves thee far and
shaft. And is he a man to encounter Tybalt? Mer. Why, is not this better now than groanBen. Why, what is Tybalt?
Mer. 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!
Mer. The pox of such antick, lisping, affecting fantasticoes; these new tuners of accents!-By 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-moys, who stand so much on the new
thou Romeo; now art thou what thou art, by
ing for love? now art thou sociable, now art
art as well as by nature: for this drivelling love
is like a great natural, that runs lolling up and
down to hide his bauble in a hole.
Ben. Stop there, stop there.
Mer. Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair. flarge.
Ben. Thou would'st else have made thy tale Mer. O, thou art deceiv'd, I would have made my tale: and meant, indeed, to occupy the arit short: for I was come to the whole depth of gument no longer.
Rom. Here's goodly geer!
Enter Nurse and PETER.
Mer. A sail, a sail, a sail!
Den. Two, two; a shirt, and a smock.
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