Rom. Thou wast never with me for anything
when thou wast not here for the goose.
Mer. I will bite thee by the ear for that jest.
Rom. Nay, good goose, bite not. 85
Mer. Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is
a most sharp sauce.
Rom. And is it not then well served in to a
sweet goose? 89
Mer. O! here's a wit of cheveril, that stretches
from an inch narrow to an ell broad.
Rom. I stretch it out for that word 'broad;'
which added to the goose, proves thee far and
wide a broad goose. 94
Mer. Why, is not this better now than groan-
ing for love? now art thou sociable, now art thou
Romeo; now art thou what thou art, by art as
well as by nature: for this drivelling love is like
a great natural, that runs lolling up and down
to hide his bauble in a hole. 100
Ben. Stop there, stop there.
Mer. Thou desirest me to stop in my tale
against the hair.
Ben. Thou wouldst else have made thy tale
large. 105
Mer. O! thou art deceived; 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. 109
Rom. Here's goodly gear!
Enter Nurse and her man [Peter].
A sail, a sail!
86 sweeting: kind of apple
90 cheveril: kid leather
94 broad: evident
99 natural: idiot
100 bauble: stick carried by a court fool
103 against the hair: against the grain
110 gear: business
