The moſt Lamentable Tragedie
Romeo. Is loue a tender thing? it is to rough,
Too rude, too boiſtrous, and it pricks like thorne.
Mer. If loue be rough with you, be rough with loue
Prick loue for pricking, and you beat loue downe,
Giue me a caſe to put my viſage in,
A viſor for a viſor, what care I
What curious eye doth quote deformities:
Here are the beetle browes ſhall bluſh for me.
Ben. Come knocke and enter, and no ſooner in,
But euery man betake him to his legs,
Ro. A torch for me, let wantons light of heart
Tickle the ſenceleſſe ruſhes with their heeles:
For I am prouerb'd with a graunſire Phraſe,
Ile be a candle-holder and looke on,
The game was nere fo faire, and I am dun.
Mer. Tut, duns the mouſe, the Conſtables owne word
If thou art dun, weele draw thee from the mire
Or ſaue you reuerence loue, wherein thou ſtickeſt
Vp to the eares, come we burne day-light ho.
Rom. Thats not ſo.
Mer. I meane ſir in delay, We waſte our lights in vaine, Lights Lights by day:
Take our good meaning, for our Iudgements ſits,
Fiue times in that, ere once in our fine wits.
Rom. And we meane well in going to this Maske,
But tis no wit to goe.
Mer. Why may one aske?
Rom. I dreampt a Dreame to night.
Mer. And ſo did I.
Rom. Well, what was yours?
Mer. That dreamers often lye.
Ro. In bed a ſleepe while they doe dreame things true,
Mer. O then I ſee Queene Mab hath beene with you:
