Mercutio. Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy.
Romeo. Pink for flower.
Mercutio. Right.
Romeo. Why, then is my pump well-flowered.
Mercutio. 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, sole singular.
Romeo. O single-soled jest, solely singular for the singleness!
Mercutio. Come between us, good Benvolio; my wits faint.
Romeo. Swits and spurs, swits and spurs; or I'll cry a match.
Mercutio. Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, I have 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?
Romeo. Thou wast never with me for anything when thou wast not there for the goose.
Mercutio. I will bite thee by the ear for that jest.
Romeo. Nay, good goose, bite not.
Mercutio. Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most sharp sauce.
Romeo. And is it not, then, well served in to a sweet goose?
Mercutio. O, here's a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an inch narrow to an ell broad!
Romeo. I stretch it out for that word broad: which added to the goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose.
Mercutio. Why, is not this better now than groaning for love? now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; not art thou what thou art, by 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.
Benvolio. Stop there, stop there.
Mercutio. Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair.
Benvolio. Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large.
Mercutio. O, thou art deceived; 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.
Romeo. Here's goodly gear!
[Enter Nurse and Peter.]
Mercutio. A sail, a sail, a sail!
Benvolio. Two, two; a shirt and a smock.
Nurse. Peter!
Peter. Anon.
Nurse. My fan, Peter.
Mercutio. Good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan's the fairer face.
Nurse. God ye good morrow, gentlemen.
Mercutio. God ye good-den, fair gentlewoman.
Nurse. Is it good-den?
Mercutio. 'Tis no less, I tell ye; for the bawdy hand of the dial is now upon the prick of noon.
Nurse. Out upon you! what a man are you!
Romeo. One, gentlewoman, that God hath made for 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?
Romeo. 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.
Mercutio. Yea, is the worst well? very well took, i' faith; wisely, wisely.
Nurse. If you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with you.
Benvolio. She will indite him to some supper.
Mercutio. A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! So ho!
Romeo. What hast thou found?
Mercutio. No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie, that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent. [Sings.] 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.
Romeo. I will follow you.
Mercutio. Farewell, ancient lady; farewell,-- [singing] lady, lady, lady.
[Exeunt Mercutio, and Benvolio.]
Nurse. Marry, farewell!--I pray you, sir, what saucy merchant was this that was so full of his ropery?
Romeo. A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself talk; and will speak more in a minute than he will stand to in a month.
