Sämtliche Werke von Shakespeare in einem Band: Zweisprachige Ausgabe (Deutsch-Englisch). William Shakespeare
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sit at ease on the old bench? O, their bons, their bons!
BENVOLIO.
Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo!
MERCUTIO.
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 lady, was but a kitchen wench,—marry, she had a better love to berhyme her; Dido, a dowdy; Cleopatra, a gypsy; Helen and Hero, hildings and harlots; Thisbe, a gray eye or so, but not to the purpose,—
[Enter Romeo.]
Signior Romeo, bon jour! there’s a French salutation to your
French slop.
You gave us the counterfeit fairly last night.
ROMEO.
Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you?
MERCUTIO.
The slip, sir, the slip; can you not conceive?
Romeo. Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was great; and in such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy.
Mercutio. That’s as much as to say, such a case as yours constrains a man to bow in the hams.
ROMEO.
Meaning, to court’sy.
MERCUTIO.
Thou hast most kindly hit it.
ROMEO.
A most courteous exposition.
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