cannot sit at ease on the old bench. O their bones, their
bones.
Enter Romeo.

Ben. Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo

Mer. Without his Roe, like a dryed Hering. O flesh,
flesh, how art thou fishified? Now is he for the numbers
that Petrarch flowed in: Laura to his Lady, was a kitchen
wench, marrie she had a better Loue to berime her: Dido
a dowdie, Cleopatra a Gipsie, Hellen and Hero, hildings
and Harlots: Thisbie a gray eie or so, but not to the purpose.
Signior Romeo, Bon iour, there's a French salutation to your
French slop: you gaue vs the counterfait fairely last
night

Romeo. Good morrow to you both, what counterfeit
did I giue you?
Mer. The slip sir, the slip, can you not conceiue?
Rom. Pardon Mercutio, my businesse was great, and in
such a case as mine, a man may straine curtesie

Mer. That's as much as to say, such a case as yours constrains
a man to bow in the hams

Rom. Meaning to cursie

Mer. Thou hast most kindly hit it

Rom. A most curteous exposition