_Enter a_ Servingman. _Serv._ Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you called, my young lady asked for, the nurse cursed in the pantry, and every thing in extremity. I must hence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight. _La. Cap._ We follow thee. [_Exit Servingman._] Juliet,[238] the county stays.[239][240] 105 _Nurse._ Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days.[239] [_Exeunt._ SCENE IV. _A street._ _Enter_ ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, _with five or six other_ Maskers, _and_ Torch-bearers.[241] _Rom._ What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse?[242] Or shall we on without apology? _Ben._ The date is out of such prolixity:[243] We'll have no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf, Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath, 5 Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper;[244] Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke[245][246] After the prompter, for our entrance:[245][247] But, let them measure us by what they will, We'll measure them a measure, and be gone. 10 _Rom._ Give me a torch: I am not for this ambling; Being but heavy, I will bear the light.[248] _Mer._ Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.[249] _Rom._ Not I, believe me: you have dancing shoes With nimble soles: I have a soul of lead[250] 15 So stakes me to the ground, I cannot move. _Mer._ You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings,[251] And soar with them above a common bound.[251] _Rom._ I am too sore enpierced with his shaft[251][252] To soar with his light feathers, and so bound,[251][253] 20 I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe:[251] Under love's heavy burthen do I sink.[251][254] _Mer._ And, to sink in it, should you burthen love;[251][255] Too great oppression for a tender thing.[251] _Rom._ Is love a tender thing? it is too rough,[251] 25 Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.[251][256] _Mer._ If love be rough with you, be rough with love;[251] Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.[251][257] Give me a case to put my visage in:[258] A visor for a visor! what care I[259] 30 What curious eye doth quote deformities?[260] Here are the beetle-brows shall blush for me. _Ben._ Come, knock and enter, and no sooner in[261] But every man betake him to his legs.[261][262] _Rom._ A torch for me: let wantons light of heart 35 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.[263] The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done.[264][265]