Romeo. Good morrow to you both, what counterfeit did I giue you? Mer. The slip sir, the slip, can you not conceiue? Rom. Pardon Mercutio, my businesse was great, and in such a case as mine, a man may straine curtesie
Mer. That's as much as to say, such a case as yours constrains a man to bow in the hams
Rom. Meaning to cursie
Mer. Thou hast most kindly hit it
Rom. A most curteous exposition
Mer. Nay, I am the very pinck of curtesie
Rom. Pinke for flower
Mer. Right
Rom. Why then is my Pump well flowr'd
Mer. Sure wit, follow me this ieast, now till thou hast worne out thy Pump, that when the single sole of it is worne, the ieast may remaine after the wearing, sole-singular
Rom. O single sol'd ieast, Soly singular for the singlenesse
Mer. Come betweene vs good Benuolio, my wits faints
Rom. Swits and spurs, Swits and spurs, or Ile crie a match
Mer. Nay, if our wits run the Wild-Goose chase, I am done: For thou hast more of the Wild-Goose in one of thy wits, then I am sure I haue in my whole fiue. Was I with you there for the Goose? Rom. Thou wast neuer with mee for any thing, when thou wast not there for the Goose
Mer. I will bite thee by the eare for that iest
Rom. Nay, good Goose bite not
Mer. Thy wit is a very Bitter-sweeting, It is a most sharpe sawce
Rom. And is it not well seru'd into a Sweet-Goose? Mer. Oh here's a wit of Cheuerell, that stretches from an ynch narrow, to an ell broad
Rom. I stretch it out for that word, broad, which added to the Goose, proues thee farre and wide, abroad Goose
Mer. Why is not this better now, then groning for Loue, now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo: now art thou what thou art, by Art as well as by Nature, for this driueling Loue is like a great Naturall, that runs lolling vp and downe to hid his bable in a hole
Ben. Stop there, stop there
Mer. Thou desir'st me to stop in my tale against the haire
Ben. Thou would'st else haue made thy tale large
Mer. O thou art deceiu'd, I would haue made it short, or I was come to the whole depth of my tale, and meant indeed to occupie the argument no longer. Enter Nurse and her man.
Rom. Here's a goodly geare. A sayle, a sayle
Mer. Two, two: a Shirt and a Smocke
Nur. Peter? Peter. Anon
Nur. My Fan Peter? Mer. Good Peter to hide her face? For her Fans the fairer face? Nur. God ye good morrow Gentlemen
Mer. God ye gooden faire Gentlewoman
Nur. Is it gooden? Mer. 'Tis no lesse I tell you: for the bawdy hand of the Dyall is now vpon the pricke of Noone
Nur. Out vpon you: what a man are you? Rom. One Gentlewoman, That God hath made, himselfe to mar
Nur. By my troth it is said, for himselfe to, mar quatha: Gentlemen, can any of you tel me where I may find the young Romeo? Romeo. I can tell you: but young Romeo will be older when you haue found him, then he was when you sought him: I am the youngest of that name, for fault of a worse
Nur. You say well
Mer. Yea is the worst well, Very well tooke: Ifaith, wisely, wisely
Nur. If you be he sir, I desire some confidence with you? Ben. She will endite him to some Supper