ROMEO AND JULIET 1.4

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ROMEO AND JULIET 1.4

A street.

[Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with five or six

Maskers, Torch-bearers, and others]

ROMEO What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse?

Or shall we on without a apology?

BENVOLIO The date is out of such prolixity:

We'll have no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf,

Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath, 5

Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper;

Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke

After the prompter, for our entrance:

But let them measure us by what they will;

We'll measure them a measure, and be gone. 10

ROMEO Give me a torch: I am not for this ambling;

Being but heavy, I will bear the light.

MERCUTIO Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.

ROMEO Not I, believe me: you have dancing shoes

With nimble soles: I have a soul of lead 15

So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.

MERCUTIO You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings,

And soar with them above a common bound.

ROMEO I am too sore enpierced with his shaft

To soar with his light feathers, and so bound, 20

I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe:

Under love's heavy burden do I sink.

MERCUTIO And, to sink in it, should you burden love;

Too great oppression for a tender thing.

ROMEO Is love a tender thing? it is too rough, 25

Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.

MERCUTIO If love be rough with you, be rough with love;

Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.

Give me a case to put my visage in:

A visor for a visor! what care I 30

What curious eye doth quote deformities?

Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me.

BENVOLIO Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in,

But every man betake him to his legs.

ROMEO A torch for me: let wantons light of heart 35

Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels,

For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase;

I'll be a candle-holder, and look on.

The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done.

MERCUTIO Tut, dun's the mouse, the constable's own word: 40

If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire

Of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stick'st

Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho!

ROMEO Nay, that's not so.

MERCUTIO I mean, sir, in delay 45

We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day.

Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits

Five times in that ere once in our five wits.

ROMEO And we mean well in going to this mask;

But 'tis no wit to go. 50

MERCUTIO Why, may one ask?

ROMEO I dream'd a dream to-night.

MERCUTIO And so did I.

ROMEO Well, what was yours?

MERCUTIO That dreamers often lie. 55

ROMEO In bed asleep, while they do dream things true.

MERCUTIO O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you.

She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes

In shape no bigger than an agate-stone

On the fore-finger of an alderman, 60

Drawn with a team of little atomies

Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep;

Her wagon-spokes made of long spiders' legs,

The cover of the wings of grasshoppers,

The traces of the smallest spider's web, 65

The collars of the moonshine's watery beams,

Her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film,

Her wagoner a small grey-coated gnat,

Not so big as a round little worm

Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid; 70

Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut

Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,

Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers.

And in this state she gallops night by night

Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love; 75

O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight,

O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees,

O'er ladies ' lips, who straight on kisses dream,

Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,

Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are: 80

Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,

And then dreams he of smelling out a suit;

And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail

Tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep,

Then dreams, he of another benefice: 85

Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,

And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,

Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,

Of healths five-fathom deep; and then anon

Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes, 90

And being thus frighted swears a prayer or two

And sleeps again. This is that very Mab

That plats the manes of horses in the night,

And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs,

Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes: 95

This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,

That presses them and learns them first to bear,

Making them women of good carriage:

This is she--

ROMEO Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace!

Thou talk'st of nothing. 100

MERCUTIO True, I talk of dreams,

Which are the children of an idle brain,

Begot of nothing but vain fantasy,

Which is as thin of substance as the air

And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes 105

Even now the frozen bosom of the north,

And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence,

Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.

BENVOLIO This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves;

Supper is done, and we shall come too late. 110

ROMEO I fear, too early: for my mind misgives

Some consequence yet hanging in the stars

Shall bitterly begin his fearful date

With this night's revels and expire the term

Of a despised life closed in my breast 115

By some vile forfeit of untimely death.

But He, that hath the steerage of my course,

Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen.

BENVOLIO Strike, drum.

[Exeunt]

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		[Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with five or six
		Maskers, Torch-bearers, and others]

ROMEO		What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse?
		Or shall we on without a apology?

BENVOLIO	The date is out of such prolixity:
	We'll have no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf,
	Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath,	5
	Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper;
	Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke
	After the prompter, for our entrance:
	But let them measure us by what they will;
	We'll measure them a measure, and be gone.	10

ROMEO		Give me a torch: I am not for this ambling;
		Being but heavy, I will bear the light.

ROMEO	Not I, believe me: you have dancing shoes
	With nimble soles: I have a soul of lead	15
	So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.

MERCUTIO		You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings,
		And soar with them above a common bound.

ROMEO	I am too sore enpierced with his shaft
	To soar with his light feathers, and so bound,	20
	I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe:
	Under love's heavy burden do I sink.

MERCUTIO		And, to sink in it, should you burden love;
		Too great oppression for a tender thing.

ROMEO		Is love a tender thing? it is too rough,	25
		Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.

MERCUTIO	If love be rough with you, be rough with love;
	Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.
	Give me a case to put my visage in:
	A visor for a visor! what care I	30
	What curious eye doth quote deformities?
	Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me.

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BENVOLIO		Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in,
		But every man betake him to his legs.

ROMEO	A torch for me: let wantons light of heart	35
	Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels,
	For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase;
	I'll be a candle-holder, and look on.
	The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done.

MERCUTIO	Tut, dun's the mouse, the constable's own word:	40
	If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire
	Of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stick'st
	Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho!

MERCUTIO	I mean, sir, in delay	45
	We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day.
	Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits
	Five times in that ere once in our five wits.

ROMEO		And we mean well in going to this mask;
		But 'tis no wit to go.	50

MERCUTIO	O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you.
	She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes
	In shape no bigger than an agate-stone
	On the fore-finger of an alderman,	60
	Drawn with a team of little atomies
	Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep;
	Her wagon-spokes made of long spiders' legs,
	The cover of the wings of grasshoppers,
	The traces of the smallest spider's web,	65
	The collars of the moonshine's watery beams,
	Her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film,
	Her wagoner a small grey-coated gnat,
	Not so big as a round little worm
	Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid;	70
	Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut
	Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,
	Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers.
	And in this state she gallops night by night
	Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love;	75
	O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight,
	O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees,
	O'er ladies ' lips, who straight on kisses dream,
	Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,
	Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are:	80
	Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,
	And then dreams he of smelling out a suit;
	And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail
	Tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep,
	Then dreams, he of another benefice:	85
	Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,
	And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
	Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,
	Of healths five-fathom deep; and then anon
	Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,	90
	And being thus frighted swears a prayer or two
	And sleeps again. This is that very Mab
	That plats the manes of horses in the night,
	And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs,
	Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes:	95
	This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,
	That presses them and learns them first to bear,
	Making them women of good carriage:
	This is she--

ROMEO		Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace!
		Thou talk'st of nothing.	100

MERCUTIO	True, I talk of dreams,
	Which are the children of an idle brain,
	Begot of nothing but vain fantasy,
	Which is as thin of substance as the air
	And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes	105
	Even now the frozen bosom of the north,
	And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence,
	Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.

BENVOLIO		This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves;
		Supper is done, and we shall come too late.	110

ROMEO	I fear, too early: for my mind misgives
	Some consequence yet hanging in the stars
	Shall bitterly begin his fearful date
	With this night's revels and expire the term
	Of a despised life closed in my breast	115
	By some vile forfeit of untimely death.
	But He, that hath the steerage of my course,
	Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen.