Mercutio And sleeps again. This is that very Mab That plaits the manes of horses in the night, And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs, Which, once untangled, much misfortune bodes. This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs, That presses them and learns them first to bear, Making them women of good carriage. Read more about Act 1, Scene 4: Popup Note Index Item: "presses," "bear," and "carriage"
Mercutio Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose, And then dreams he of smelling out a suit; And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail, Tickling a parson's nose as he lies asleep — Then dreams he of another benefice. Read more about popup_note_index_item 668
Mercutio And in this state she gallops night by night Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love; O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on curtsies straight; O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees; O'er ladies ' lips, who straight on kisses dream, Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues, Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are. Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose, And then dreams he of smelling out a suit; Read more about popup_note_index_item 667
Mercutio And in this state she gallops night by night Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love; O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on curtsies straight; O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees; O'er ladies ' lips, who straight on kisses dream, Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues, Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are. Read more about popup_note_index_item 666
Mercutio Her chariot is an empty hazelnut Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub, Time out o' mind the fairies' coach-makers. And in this state she gallops night by night Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love; Read more about popup_note_index_item 665
Mercutio O, then I see Queen Mab hath been with you; She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate-stone On the forefinger of an alderman, Drawn with a team of little atomi Over men's noses as they lie asleep; Her wagon spokes made of long spiders' legs; The cover of the wings of grasshoppers; Her traces of the smallest spider web; Her collars of the moonshine's wat'ry beams; Her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film; Her wagoner a small grey-coated gnat, Not half so big as a round little worm Pricked from the lazy finger of a maid. Read more about popup_note_index_item 663
Mercutio Tut, dun's the mouse, the constable's own word. If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire, Or — save your reverence — love, wherein thou stickest Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho! Romeo Nay, that's not so. Mercutio I mean, sir, in delay We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day. Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits Five times in that ere once in our five wits. Read more about popup_note_index_item 662
Benvolio Come, knock and enter, and no sooner in, But every man betake him to his legs. Romeo A torch for me. Let wantons, light of heart, Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels; For I am proverbed with a grandsire phrase. I'll be a candle-holder and look on; The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done. Read more about popup_note_index_item 661
Romeo Give me a torch; I am not for this ambling. Being but heavy, I will bear the light. Mercutio Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance. Romeo Not I, believe me. You have dancing shoes With nimble soles. I have a soul of lead So stakes me to the ground I cannot move. Mercutio You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings, And soar with them above a common bound. Read more about popup_note_index_item 660
Benvolio But let them measure us by what they will, We'll measure them a measure and be gone. Romeo Give me a torch; I am not for this ambling. Being but heavy, I will bear the light. Mercutio Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance. Romeo Not I, believe me. You have dancing shoes With nimble soles. I have a soul of lead So stakes me to the ground I cannot move. Read more about popup_note_index_item 659
