O, mickle is the powerful grace,* that lies In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities: For this, being smelt, with that part' cheers each part; Two such opposed foes encamp them still Full soon the canker death eats up that plant. Enter ROMEO. Rom. Good morrow, father! Fri. Benedicite! What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?- Thou art up-rous'd by some distemp❜rature; Or if not so, then here I hit it right— Our Romeo hath not been in bed to-night. Rom. That last is true, the sweeter rest was mine. I have forgot that name, and that name's woe. Fri. That's my good son: But where hast thou been then? Rom. I'll tell thee, ere thou ask it me again. k powerful grace,] Efficacious virtue. with that part-] i. e. With the part which smells; with the olfactory nerves.-MALONE. I have been feasting with mine enemy; * Fri. Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift ; Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift. Rom. Then plainly know, my heart's dear love is set On the fair daughter of rich Capulet: As mine on her's, so her's is set on mine; And all combin'd, save what thou must combine Fri. Holy Saint Francis! what a change is here! Hath wash'd thy shallow cheeks for Rosaline! And art thou chang'd? pronounce this sentence then- Rom. And bad'st me bury love. Fri. To lay one in, another out to have. Not in a grave, Rom. I pray thee, chide not: she, whom I love now, Doth grace for grace, and love for love allow; The other did not so. Fri. O, she knew well, Thy love did read by rote, and could not spell. For this alliance may so happy prove, To turn your households' rancour to pure love. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. A Street. Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO. Mer. Where the devil should this Romeo be? Came he not home to-night? Ben. Not to his father's; I spoke with his man. Mer. Ah, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Ro saline, Torments him so, that he will sure run mad. Ben. Tybalt, the kinsman of old Capulet, Hath sent a letter to his father's house. Mer. A challenge, on my life. Ben. Romeo will answer it. Mer. Any man, that can write, may answer a letter. Ben. Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he dares, being dared. Mer. Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead! stabbed with a white wench's black eye; shot through the ear with a love-song; the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow-boy's butt-shaft;" And is he a man to encounter Tybalt? Ben. Why, what is Tybalt? Mer. More than prince of cats," I can tell you. O, he m I stand on sudden haste.] i. e. It is of the utmost consequence for me to be hasty.-STEEVENS. n the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow-boy's butt-shaft ;] The allusion is to archery. The clout or white mark at which the arrows are directed, was fastened by a black pin placed in the center of it. To hit this was the highest ambition of every marksman.-MALONE. • More than prince of cats,] Tybert, the name given to the cat, in the storybook of Reynard the Fox.-WARBURTON. is the courageous captain of compliments. He fights as you sing prick-song, keeps time, distance, and proportion; rests me his minim rest, one, two, and the third in your bosom: the very butcher of a silk button, a duellist, a gentleman of the very first house,-of the first and second cause: Ah, the immortal passado! the punto reverso! the hay!" Ben. The what? Mer. The pox of such antick, lisping, affecting fantasticoes; these new tuners of accents!-By Jesu, a very good blade! a very tall man!-a very good whore !-Why, is not this a lamentable thing, grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these pardonnez-moys, who stand so much on the new form, that they cannot sit at ease on the old bench? O their bons, their bons! Enter ROMEO. Ben. Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo. Mer. 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 gipsy; Helen and Hero, hildings and harlots; Thisbé, a grey eye or so, but not to the purpose.-Signior Romeo, bon jour! there's a French P captain of compliments.] i. e. A complete master of all the laws of ceremony, the principal man in the doctrine of punctilio.-JOHNSON. 4a gentleman of the very first house,-of the first and second cause:] i. e. A gentleman of the first rank, of the first eminence among these duellists; and will tell you of the first cause, and the second cause, for which a man is to fight. The clown in As you like it, talks of the seventh cause in the same sense.STEEVENS. r the hay!] All the terms of the modern fencing-school were originally Italian; the rapier, or small thrusting-sword, being first used in Italy. The hay is the word hai, you have it, used when a thrust reaches the antagonist, from which our fencers, on the same occasion, without knowing, I suppose, any reason for it, cry out ha!-JOHNSON, pardonnez-moys,] Such was the expression of doubt or hesitation among men of the sword, when the point of honour was grown so delicate, that no other mode of contradiction would be endured.-JOHNSON. — new form-old bench?] The conceit is lost, if the double meaning of th eord form be not attended to.-FARMER. "Without his roe,] i, e. He comes but the half of himself: he is only a sigh -O me! i. e. me O! the half of his name.-SEYMOUR. salutation to your French slop. You gave us the coun terfeit fairly last night. Rom. Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you ? Mer. The slip, sir, the slip; Can you not conceive? Rom. Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was great; and in such a case as mine, a man may strain courtesy. Mer. That's as much as to say-such a case as yours constrains a man to bow in the hams. Rom. Meaning-to court'sy. Mer. Thou hast most kindly hit it. Mer. Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy. Mer. Right. Rom. Why, then is my pump well flowered." Mer. 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, solely singular. Rom. O single-soled" jest, solely singular for the singleness! Mer. Come between us, good Benvolio; my wits fail. Rom. Switch and spurs, switch and spurs; or I'll cry a match. Mer. Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chace, 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? your French slop.] Slops are large loose breeches or trowsers, worn at present only by sailors.-STEEvens. The slip, sir, the slip ;] To understand this play upon the words counterfeit and slip, it should be observed that, in our author's time, there was a counterfeit piece of money distinguished by the name of a slip.-STEEVENS. my pump well flowered.] i. e. For they were pinked or punched with holes in figures.-JOHNSON. b single-soled-] i. e. Slight, unsolid, feeble.-STEEVENS. Two if thy wits run the wild-goose chace,] One kind of horse-race, which resembled the flight of wild-geese, was formerly known by this name. horses were started together; and which ever rider could get the lead, the other was obliged to follow him over whatever ground the foremost jockey chose to go. That horse which could distance the other, won the race.— HOLT WHITE. |