Romeo and Juliet No Fear Shakespeare Act 2 Scene 4

Where the devil should this Romeo be? Came he not home tonight? Where the devil can Romeo be? Didn’t he come home last night?
Ah, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline, Torments him so that he will sure run mad. That fair-skinned, hard-hearted hussy, Rosaline is going to torment him until he goes insane.
A challenge, on my life. I bet it’s a challenge.
Any man that can write may answer a letter. Any man who knows how to write can answer a letter.
Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead! stabbed with a white wench’s black eye; shot thorough 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? Oh, poor Romeo! He’s already dead. He’s been stabbed by a white girl’s black eye. He’s been cut through the ear with a love song. The center of his heart has been split by blind Cupid’s arrow. Is he man enough at this point to face off with Tybalt?
More than prince of cats, I can tell you. O, he’s the courageous captain of compliments. He fights as you sing prick-song , the very butcher of a sink button, a duellist, a duellist; the immortal passado! The punto reverso! The hail! He’s tougher than the PRINCE OF CATSThe Prince of Cats is a figure from Medieval lore whose first name was also Tybalt.Prince of Cats. He does everything by the book. He fights like you sing at a recital, paying attention to time, distance, and proportion. He takes the proper breaks: one, two, and the third in your heart. He’s the butcher who can hit any silk button. A master of duels. He’s a gentleman from the finest school of fencing. He knows how to turn any argument into a swordfight. HE KNOWSMercutio lists Italian terms for fencing moves.He knows passado—the forward thrust—the punto reverso—the backhand thrust—and the hai—the thrust that goes straight through.
The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting fantasticoes; these new tuners of accents! ‘By jesu, a very good blade! A very tall man! A very good *****! O, their bones, their bones! I hate these crazy, affected guys who use foreign phrases and newfangled expressions. I hate their strange manners and their weird accents! I hate it when they say, “By Jesus, this is a very good blade, a very brave man, a very good *****.” Isn’t this a sad thing, my good man? Why should we put up with these foreign buzzards, these fashionmongers, these guys who say “pardon me,” these guys who care so much about manners that they can’t kick back on a bench without whining? “Oh, my aching bones!”
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; signior romeo, bon jour! Theres a french salutation to your french slop. You gave us the counterfeit fairly last night. He looks skinny, like a dried herring without its eggs, and he hasn’t got his girl. O flesh, flesh, you’ve turned pale and weak like a fish. Now he’s ready for PETRARCH’SMercutio teases Romeo by alluding to the poet Petrarch and six mythical and historical women who inspired love poetry.Petrarch’s poetry. Compared to Romeo’s girl, Laura was a kitchen slave. Surely she has a better love to make rhymes for her. Dido was shabbily dressed. Cleopatra was a gypsy girl. Helen and Hero were sluts and harlots. Thisbe might have had a blue eye or two, but that doesn’t matter. Signor Romeo, bonjour. There’s a French greeting that matches your drooping French-style pants. You faked us out pretty good last night.
The slip, sir, the slip; can you not concieve? You gave us the slip, sir, the slip. Can’t you understand what I’m saying?
Thats as much to say, such a case as yours constrains a man to bow in the hams. In other words “important business” made you FLEX YOUR BUTTOCKSMercutio implies Romeo’s business was sexual.flex your buttocks.
Thou hast most kindly hit it. You’ve hit the TARGETThis is sexual double, sir.
Nay, i am the very pink of courtesy. Yes, I am the pink flower—the master, of courtesy and manners.
Right Right.
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 Alright my witty friend, this joke has worn out your pump. Its thin skin is all worn out. The joke is all you have left.
come between us, good benvolio: my wits faint Come break this up, Benvolio. I’m losing this duel of wits.
nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, 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? Now, if our jokes go on a wild-goose chase, I’m finished. You have more wild goose in one of your jokes than I have in five of mine. Was I even close to you in the chase for the goose?
i will bite thee by the ear for that jest I’ll bite you on the ear for that joke.
thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most sharp sauce. Your joke is a very bitter apple. Your humor is a spicy sauce.
O, here’s a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an inch narrow to an ell broad! Oh, that’s a joke made out of leather that spreads itself thin, from the width of an inch to as fat as a yard.
: why, is not this better now than groaning for love? Now art thou sociable now art thou romeo; now art thou what thou art, by art as well as nature: for this drivelling love is like a great natural, that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in a hole. Why, isn’t all this joking better than groaning about love? Now you’re sociable. Now you’re Romeo. Now you are what you’ve learned to be and what you are naturally. This love of yours was like a blithering idiot who runs up and down looking for a hole to hide his TOYToy = a double entendre for penistoy in.
thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair You want me to stop my TALETale = a double entendre for penistale before I’m done.
o, thou art decieved; i would have made it short: for i was come to the whole depth of my tale, and meant indeed to occupy the argument no longer. Oh, you’re wrong. I would have made it short. I had come to the deepest part of my tale, and I planned to say nothing more on the topic.
A sail, a sail! There’s two—a man and a woman.
Tis no less, i tell you; for the bawdy hand of the dial is now upon the prick of noon It’s not earlier than that, I tell you. The LUSTY HANDAgain, Mercutio’s language is full of offensive sexual innuendo.lusty hand of the clock is now pricking noon.
A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! So ho! A pimp! A pimp! A pimp! I’ve found it out
No hare, sir, unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie, that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent. An old hare hoarAnd an old hare hoarIs a very good meat in lentBut a hare that is hoarIs too much for a scoreWhen it hoars ere it be spent She’s not a prostitute unless she’s using her ugliness to hide her promiscuity.(speaks)(he walks by them and sings) Old rabbit meat is good to eat, If you can’t get anything else. But if it’s so old, That it goes bad before you eat it, Then it was a waste of money.(speaking)