The Best of Shakespeare:. William Shakespeare
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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.
Nurse. An ‘a speak anything against me, I’ll take him down, an’a 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; I am none of his skains-mates.—And thou must stand by too, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure!
Peter. 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 vexed 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 bade me say I will keep to myself: but first let me tell ye, if ye should lead her into a 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, and very weak dealing.
Romeo. Nurse, 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.
Romeo.
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 gentlemanlike offer.
Romeo.
Bid her devise some means to come to shrift
This afternoon;
And there she shall at Friar Lawrence’ cell
Be shriv’d and married. Here is for thy pains.
Nurse.
No, truly, sir; not a penny.
Romeo.
Go to; I say you shall.
Nurse.
This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there.
Romeo.
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.
Farewell; be trusty, and I’ll quit thy pains:
Farewell;