_Mercutio._ Well said; follow me this jest now till thou hast worn out thy pump, that when the single sole of it is worn the jest may remain after the wearing sole singular. _Romeo._ O single-souled jest, solely singular for the singleness! _Mercutio._ Come between us, good Benvolio; my wits fail. _Romeo._ Switch and spurs, switch and spurs; or I'll cry a match. _Mercutio._ Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, I have done, for thou hast more of the wild-goose in one of thy wits than, I am sure, I have in my whole five. Was I with you there for the goose? _Romeo._ Thou wast never with me for anything when thou was not there for the goose. _Mercutio._ I will bite thee by the ear for that jest. _Romeo._ Nay, good goose, bite not. _Mercutio._ Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most sharp sauce. _Romeo._ And is it not well served into a sweet goose? _Mercutio._ O, here's a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an inch narrow to an ell broad! _Romeo._ I stretch it out for that word 'broad,' which added to the goose proves thee far and wide a broad goose. _Mercutio._ Why, is not this better now than groaning 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 driveling love is like a great natural,-- _Benvolio._ Stop there, stop there. _Romeo._ Here's goodly gear! _Enter_ NURSE _and_ PETER _Mercutio._ A sail, a sail! _Benvolio._ Two, two; a shirt and a smock.
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