Scene IV. A Street.
[Enter Romeo, Mercutio, Benvolio, with five or six Maskers;
Torch-bearers, and others.]
What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse?
Or shall we on without apology?
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,
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.
Give me a torch, — I am not for this ambling;
Being but heavy, I will bear the light.
Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.
Not I, believe me: you have dancing shoes,
With nimble soles; I have a soul of lead
So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.
You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings,
And soar with them above a common bound.
I am too sore enpierced with his shaft
To soar with his light feathers; and so bound,
I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe:
Under love's heavy burden do I sink.
And, to sink in it, should you burden love;
Too great oppression for a tender thing.
Is love a tender thing? it is too rough,
Too rude, too boisterous; and it pricks like thorn.
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: [Putting on a mask.]
A visard for a visard! what care I
What curious eye doth quote deformities?
Here are the beetle-brows shall blush for me.
Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in
But every man betake him to his legs.
A torch for me: let wantons, light of heart,
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.
Tut, dun's the mouse, the constable's own word:
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.
Nay, that's not so.
I mean, sir, in delay
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.
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