ACT II.
4. Scene IV. A Street.
(continued)
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 be-rhyme 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.
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