What I'm saying can't anger him. He would be
angry if I summoned a strange spirit for her to have sex
with—that's what would make him angry. The
things I'm saying are fair and honest. All I'm
doing is saying the name of the woman he loves to lure him out of
the darkness.
BENVOLIO
30
Come, he hath hid himself among these trees,
To be consorted with the humorous night.
Blind is his love and best befits the dark.
BENVOLIO
Come on. He's hidden behind these trees to keep the night
company. His love is blind, so it belongs in the dark.
MERCUTIO
If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.
Now will he sit under a medlar tree
35
And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit
As maids call medlars when they laugh alone.—
O Romeo, that she were! Oh, that she were
An open arse, and thou a poperin pear.
Romeo, good night. I'll to my truckle bed.
40
This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep.—
Come, shall we go?
MERCUTIO
If love is blind, it can't hit the target. Now
he'll sit under a medlar
tree and wish his mistress were one of those fruits that
look like female genitalia. Oh Romeo, I wish she
were an open-arse, and you a Popperin
pear to “pop her in.” Good night, Romeo.
I'll go to my little trundle bed. This open field is too
cold a place for me to sleep. (to
BENVOLIO) Come on, should we
go?
BENVOLIO
Go, then, for 'tis
in vain
To seek him here that means not to be found.
BENVOLIO
Let's go. There's no point in looking for him if
he doesn't want to be found.
