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ROMEO . O let us hence ; I stand on sudden haste . FRIAR LAWRENCE . Wisely and slow ; they stumble that run fast . [ Exeunt . ] SCENE IV . A Street . Enter Benvolio and Mercutio . MERCUTIO . Where the devil should this Romeo be ? Came he not home tonight ? BENVOLIO . Not to his father’s ; I spoke with his man . MERCUTIO . Why , that same pale hard - hearted wench , that Rosaline , torments him so that he will sure run mad . BENVOLIO . Tybalt , the kinsman to old Capulet , hath sent a letter to his father’s house . MERCUTIO . A challenge , on my life . BENVOLIO . Romeo will answer it . MERCUTIO . Any man that can write may answer a letter . BENVOLIO . Nay , he will answer the letter’s master , how he dares , being dared . MERCUTIO . Alas poor Romeo , he is already dead , stabbed with a white wench’s black eye ; run 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 ? BENVOLIO . Why , what is Tybalt ? MERCUTIO . More than Prince of cats . O , he’s the courageous captain of compliments . He fights as you sing prick - song , keeps time , distance , and proportion . He rests his minim rest , one , two , and the third in your bosom : the very butcher of a silk button , a duellist , a duellist ; a gentleman of the very first house , of the first and second cause . Ah , the immortal passado , the punto reverso , the hay . BENVOLIO . The what ? MERCUTIO . The pox of such antic lisping , affecting phantasies ; these new tuners of accent . 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 pardon - me’s , who stand so much on the new form that they cannot sit at ease on the old bench ? O their bones , their bones ! Enter Romeo . 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 berhyme her : Dido a dowdy ; Cleopatra a gypsy ; Helen and Hero hildings and harlots ; Thisbe a grey eye or so , but not to the purpose . Signior Romeo , bonjour ! 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 curtsy . MERCUTIO . Thou hast most kindly hit it . ROMEO . A most courteous exposition .
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